Until I Forget You
by nicolebaka
Summary: A girl who fled to Italy just to escape her past, and a boy who built his sparkling life on it. Damon Salvatore's name is well-known in Hollywood. He's the hot new guy: killer smile and eyes to die for. Elena Gilbert, a young nurse, whose past secrets haunt her. When these two meet by an unexpected accident, a journey will began from which they can never turn back. AU/AH, Delena
1. Prologue - Smiles and Tears

**Hey there! Yes, it's me again with another AU/AH Delena story. I couldn't help myself. This story demanded to be written. I have another in-progress Delena fanfic, I haven' forgotten about that, the next chapter is coming soon. But first this.**

 **Big thanks to my beta, LeighJ11!**

 **FULL SUMMARY : A girl who fled to Italy just to escape her past, and a boy who built his sparkling life on it. Damon Salvatore's name is well-known in Hollywood. He's the hot new guy: killer smile and eyes to die for. Everybody wants him for themselves. But they don't see past the kilowatt smile and shiny hair. They don't see the brother who gets into a rock climbing accident. They don't see him dropping his life to travel to Verona, to aid his brother's recovery. They certainly don't see the young nurse whose past secrets haunt her. Most of all, they don't see the beginning of a journey from which they can never turn back from.**

 **Two self-willed and proud twentysomethings. One unfair bet. Two tickets. One journey to the past.**

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"They say that time heals all things, they say you can always forget; but the smiles and the tears across the years they twist my heartstrings yet!" - George Orwell

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 **Prologue: Smiles and Tears**

 _Hey,_

 _So I know it's awkward, me writing a letter. But I had to write it all down and give you what is most likely the final thing I'll ever say to you. So here goes._

 _A very long time ago, I swore- no, I promised myself, that I would never fall in love with you. Not under any circumstances, no matter what. I vowed to myself, there and then, that I would never, ever let you wrap me around your little finger. But where have these vows gotten me? I have broken these promises, shattered these oaths._

 _I served my heart on a silver platter with trimmings for you to take, and play with. I thought this would never happen, and yet here I am. I am hopelessly in love with you. I can't deny it any longer. The bet ceased to exist in the never ending moment that realization made itself present. So here it is: my surrender. You won. Honestly, I thought you would gloat, or accusingly point at me. Something, anything. But you took it so much further. Made it so much worse._

 _You pitied me. You couldn't have been nastier. Crueler. Couldn't have destroyed me any more than you did in that moment, and yet, I still don't hate you. Believe me, I want to. I crave it. The bitter, hot resentment in my chest and hate bubbling my gut. But I don't feel it. I can't. I have no rights to. I'm not angry, I have no blame. I don't deserve you. I never have. You deserve someone so much better than me. So much more than me._

 _I wish, I hope, that you find the love I feel for you in somebody else. Someone worthy. I want this for you, and so I announce, from this moment forward, that I am no longer a part of your life. You don't have to see me, look at me or even think about me. We won't meet accidently or exchanging awkward eye contact, because I'll be thousands of miles away._

 _There will be a thousand miles between us. I promise you that I will do anything to forget you. To leave you in peace. I just want you to know that my life will change, because of you. Hospitals, Italian movies; they'll be removed. I won't walk barefoot behind the hills at the lakeside, watching the sun descend below the horizon._

 _I won't do any of these things, until I forget you._

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 **This is the prologue, a letter. I want to make a poll. Who do you think wrote this? Damon or Elena? I'd like to know what do you think and how your opinion will change with each chapter! :)**

 **The next 1st chapter comes tomorrow!**


	2. Between Two Worlds

**As I promised, here's the actual first chapter. You can still guess who wrote the letter in the prologue, I'm really curious about what you think! :)**

 **Also, don't be confused by the name, Marie. You'll understand it soon! :)**

 **Hope you like it!**

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 _"Between two worlds life hovers like a star,_  
 _Twixt the night and morn, upon the horizon's verge._  
 _How little do we know that which we are! How less what we may be!" - Byron_

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 **Chapter 1: Between Two Worlds**

 **DAMON**

Something exploded. A feeling. Inside me. Just like a distant star in the universe. The adrenalin was coursing through my veins with a dizzying intensity which kept my eyes open. The wind was snatching at my carefully arranged hair, ruining the lengthy work spent on it. There were goosebumps on my arms, but I didn't have time to deal with that because my mind already started the countdown.

 _Three…_

I saw the ramp emerging from the water a long time before the motorboat took me to it. The waves were touching my legs while I tried to keep my balance on the board. My breath quickened, sucking in the taste of salt. I tried to prepare myself for what was going to happen next.

 _Two…_

My grip on the piece of plastic in my hand, fastened to a motorboat, was tight and I squeezed convulsively. My speed picked up rapidly and this time, straight towards a life-threatening obstacle.

 _One…_

Both my parents and brother came to my mind. I knew I didn't have any other choice but to do my best and survive. I would let so many people down if I chickened out of this in the last minute.

 _Now!_

The board shot up to the ramp and I was sent into the air in full swing. I used the moment while I was completely weightless to let go of the handhold and concentrate with every fiber of my being to turn around on the spot. Even the world fell silent in that moment and I only heard when the board touched the water again. I didn't even realize I held my breath the whole time.

"And cut!" Someone shouted.

A burst of applause was erupted on the beach. Dozens of people started cheering. I grinned involuntarily. Not more than a few minutes elapsed, but my whole life flashed before my eyes in those moments. I was seriously afraid that I would fail in this extreme water ski stunt, but I tried to hide it while my colleagues congratulated me for the jump.

"Good job, Damon!" My manager joined the line.

The worry was still present in his eyes so I patted his shoulder for him to comprehend that I really did survive. "But next time we use a stunt double."

"Spoilsport," I reminded him with a smile, while a makeup and a hairstylist attacked me with brushes and sprays, in a hurry to get me ready for my next scene.

Alaric shook his head disapprovingly and adjusted his Guns 'N Roses t-shirt. He put his vibrating phone to his ear and walked away. As the rays of the rising sun painted the landscape crimson, I let my gaze wander into the distance to study the beauty of Maui. _Hawaii…_ the shooting place of my dreams.

With the adrenalin still pounding in me, I stared into the distance, not hearing the words meant for me. I'd never liked to leave the hard work to others. I also wanted to walk my own path, no matter how bumpy it would get. In Hollywood, it counted as strange, everybody was looking at me like I was some queer fish. Initially, nobody acknowledged me, but after a few years, I had the whole film industry in the palm of my hand.

"Damon!" Somebody called my name.

I snatched my gaze away from the ivy green leaves of the palm trees which were glistening at the crack of dawn. "Someone is looking for you," Alaric passed me the phone with a serious expression on his face.

I furrowed my brows in confusion. "Hello?" I took over the device and placed it to my ears. I waved the girls bustling around me to be patient.

"Mr. Salvatore?" asked a female voice with a formal tone that uttered my name melodiously.

"Speaking,"

"I'm calling you from _Caterina da Siena_ hospital in Verona," she informed me which only made the situation more incomprehensible to me.

Why would anybody from an Italian hospital look for me? I tensely waited for the woman on the other end to give me further information, which arrived after a quiet sigh.

"It's about your brother…"

* * *

 **ELENA**

I could get used to the constant smell of antiseptic. However, getting used to the presence of death that lurked in the dark shadows of every corner was another story. Even the baby blue-painted walls and the sight of the olive plantation through the windows couldn't take that feeling away. Every time the earsplitting sound of the sirens pierced the air, my heart sank and I prepared for the worst.

I waited behind the counter while the paramedics brought in another patient amidst frantic explanations. Even such a small hospital like Caterina da Siena had a severe case every day. You could never get used to the poignant feeling every time we lost a patient. Not everyone can be saved, they said, and the more religious ones added that God works in mysterious ways. They might be right.

I lived in one of the most beautiful cities in Italy for two years now, and not by accident. Fate brought me here. I had to come. But why here in particular? I was still looking for the answer to that question, but I could only get it over time. Just when I needed the change, a letter came as a sign from God and I jumped at the opportunity. I didn't regret it.

I already completed four semesters at the medical school. This was the second summer that I worked at the local hospital as a nurse to gather experience and to help other people. As a beginner, they only trusted me with paperwork. My job was to fill out the data sheets of the patients, and since my mother tongue was English, I was used as an interpreter at times.

I loved my job, I was on good terms with my colleagues and patients, and finally my past began to fade.

"Suspected severe femur fractured climber, barely conscious, unable to speak. He must be transferred to surgery immediately due to the foreign object in the leg." Burst in three paramedics pushing a stretcher, whose arrival was warned by the loud sirens a little while ago.

There was no time to delay; I dialed our doctor immediately, who specialized in cases like this. He arrived with his team shortly after, taking the patient to the operating room while consulting with an ambulance doctor. I took a deep breath to calm my nerves. A good doctor should remain composed, I warned myself.

I was digging up a blank data sheet from the right pile while Liam came up to me. "His name is Stefan Salvatore and according to his license, he's a US citizen. In case of an accident, his brother must be notified."

He pushed the patient's wallet towards me on the counter. I flipped it open, searching for his driving license to fill out the main details before I called his relative. My concentration was interrupted by Caroline.

"Wait! Salvatore, you said?" she asked, stepping beside me.

Her beautiful, slightly tan-colored skin matched perfectly with her rich blonde hair that bounced softly with each step she took. She was able to attract every male's attention with her graceful shape and feminine appearance… until she started speaking. She was like a little kid at the age of twenty three: she loved sweets and all the colorful gadgets. Even the smallest of problems caused her to sulk and she had a crush on every current teenage craze. Sometimes it was impossible to bear with her, her enthusiasm knew no boundaries. Nevertheless, she was a very good friend and she took her work seriously.

"What's his brother's name?" she asked hastily and leaned over my shoulder to not miss anything while I turned the page to read the answer to her question. But before I could open my mouth to answer she cried out. "Damon Salvatore! That's him! The Damon Salvatore, I'm sure…"

"Caroline…relax!" I rolled my eyes. "Do you have any idea how many people live in the States? There's hardly a chance it's him."

"Let me call him," she begged, clasping her fingers together pleadingly and stared at me with doe eyes while she was unable to hide the wide smile from her face. "If I hear that melodic voice…"

"Caroline…You can't even speak English," I reminded her while I raised the wired phone to my ear.

How could that American star's brother be the patient they brought in minutes ago? Why would he be here?

"Oh," the nurse was crestfallen, but then her eyes lit up again. "But you will tell me how it was like, right?"

I knew that she wouldn't leave me alone, so I shook my head in resignation and agreed while I dialed the number on the paper. The device rang and I didn't have to wait long for the person I called to answer. I was about start telling what was usual in this case when I realized I wasn't speaking with the right person. But fortunately, the phone reached him soon.

"Mr. Salvatore?" I asked just in case.

"Speaking," came the reply hesitantly from an undoubtedly pleasant and soft voice.

"I'm calling you from Caterina da Siena hospital in Verona," I said softly, knowing the hard part of this was yet to come. I tried to stifle a sigh but I failed. I gathered all my courage and sympathetically told the man: "It's about your brother. He's been just brought in by the paramedics and my colleagues have already taken him to the operating room…"

"What's wrong with him?" cut in the big brother, audibly worried. I tried to recall what I heard as precisely as I could.

"He was in an accident while climbing. His femur is probably broken and they found a foreign object in his leg."

"I'll be there this afternoon," he answered right away. It was very kind of him but I felt it my duty to enlighten him.

"Sir, it's noon here," I informed him as I looked down at my watch. I wondered for a moment what time was it where he was.

"Then tonight, just tell me the address." He demanded, not too kindly but I overlooked it.

After all, his little brother just suffered a serious accident. It couldn't have been easy for him. I did what he 'asked' me and we said goodbye. No sooner had I turned my head to the right I found myself face to face with an overexcited Caroline.

"He was too normal to be your current favorite," I told her, puckering up my lips and she pursed her own.

"Don't be like this, Marie! You don't even know him," she snapped at me.

I looked down and tried to stop thinking about the old pictures that popped into my head. "No, but I know his type," I mumbled to myself.

Caroline didn't hear it. She asked if I wanted anything from the buffet. I gratefully pressed a few euros into her hand and asked her to bring me a cup of coffee. I had a suspicion that we would face a difficult day.

 **…**

I had two more coffees and a salad before evening came. I accompanied the chef nurse on a round, and mentally took notes of how the theoretical things I learned in college worked in reality. I restocked the medicinal cabinet and then arranged another consignment of painkillers. I had to change the sheets and make the bed in two wards because the patients in them left the hospital. With a little help, I had to put the young man with the climbing accident into bed who was still unconscious from the anesthetic they gave him during his surgery. Since I was the only one who spoke English fluently, they assigned me as his permanent nurse.

So I was next to him - reading boring magazines – until he opened his eyes. I introduced myself and told him that the doctors had to remove a sharp splinter of rock from his leg. I tried to report the situation in the best possible way with a smile.

"Can I regain my feet someday?" he interrupted me hoarsely looking into the distance.

He was staring straight out the window, beyond which you could see the mountain peaks of Apennine. His light brown hair stuck to his forehead flatly which provided a boyish sight.

I froze for a moment because I couldn't lie to him, but at the same time, I didn't want to break his heart either. But everyone deserved the truth.

"We don't know. Only time can tell. Our hospital can provide all the facilities for your treatment which can help you to use your leg again. But hopefully, that won't be necessary. When the shock passes and the bone knits, you'll be able to move your leg on your own."

He nodded to indicate that he heard what I just said, but didn't reply. Silently he turned his head away from the landscape and started inspecting the blank walls. My heart almost broke that I had to see something like that.

"Sir, if you need anything or if I can be of assistance, just press this button and I'll be here," I nodded toward the tool near his hand.

Since he hadn't replied I interpreted it that my presence was unwanted and started to head for the door. My hand was on the knob when the speed dialing device hidden in my pocket started chirping. I turned back to the patient with a puzzled expression on my face.

"Would you call me by my name, please?" he asked with a faint smile playing on his lips, which made me feel better too.

"Of course." I nodded and stepped out of the ward.

I was still smiling when I approached the counter and noticed Caroline was shaking hands with a man with a dumbfounded expression on her face, completely frozen.

When the person turned to me my jaw dropped.

This. Couldn't. Be. True.

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 **Leave me some reviews, please :)**


	3. Limit

**Thank you for the follows, alerts and reviews! It means so much that you like this story so far :) So here's the second chapter!**

 **Thanks to my beta, LeighJ11 for correcting it :)**

 **Enjoy!**

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 _"Generally speaking, these meetings occur when we reach a limit, when we need to die and be reborn emotionally." - Paulo Coelho_

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 **Chapter 2: Limit**

 **DAMON**

Twelve hour flight! Even in first class it can still be exhausting. Especially when you couldn't sleep because you were worried about your little brother's condition. The nurse couldn't say anything specific because my brother was still in surgery when we spoke. But that didn't mean I wasn't about to call the hospital every minute, even if it would've cost me a million dollar bill. Despite wanting to do this, I counted to ten in my head and tried to remain calm so I could handle every possibility reasonably.

I tried to reach our parents but they didn't pick up the phone, as usual. My next call was to my sister. Rose was in the middle of a real estate sale so she slammed the phone down with an 'I'll call you back later' before I could tell her what happened. It was unbelievable that I was the celebrity in the family and I was also the easiest person to reach if there was trouble with the youngest member of the family.

"Sir," rang out the caressing voice of the flight attendant, interrupting my thoughts. I turned to her with a questioning look. "Can I get you another drink before landing?"

"That would be great, thank you," I forced a friendly smile onto my face but that didn't kill off the lingering tension in my body. Just the thought that Stefan was fine would've been able to do that.

He'd done something crazy, again! Climbing mountains, really? And why would he travel as far as Italy for some rocks?

The drink didn't help as much as I would've liked it to, but at least everything went smoothly during landing. I bought an Italian dictionary in a store at Verona Airport next to the terminal. Then I hailed a cab, except I had difficulties speaking with the driver, so it took a while for him to understand where I wanted to go. Eventually he dropped me off at the right hospital. I was in such a hurry that I even carried my hastily packed suitcase with me in there. Arranging a place to stay while I was here could wait. My brother couldn't.

"Hi, I'm inquiring about Stefan Salvatore. I'm his brother," I gasped at the blonde beauty standing by the nurse's station.

She looked up from her notes with innocent puppy eyes, but as her gaze fell upon me, her face completely changed. Her features stretched wide, disbelief and happiness shone in her eyes. She looked as if she was about to faint, or scream. I wanted to avert the latter.

"Please, handle the matter discreetly. It wouldn't be advantageous if the press suspected anything." I explained and looked at her pleadingly.

She was amazed while studying my features, which wasn't new to me. I would've preferred if fate had brought me a nurse who could've handled the situation. I understand it wasn't every day you met actors, but we were people too, who felt, for example worry for their brother.

"I… big fan," the lady spoke in broken English, swallowing hard. She still didn't come round from her amazement. She held out her hand and introduced herself. "Caroline."

"Damon," I returned but I knew it was unnecessary. I took her hand and shook it lightly. "It's nice to meet you. Could you tell me where I can find my brother?"

The nurse didn't really want to let go of my hand and she was lost for words too. So she scribbled down a three digit number '014' on a paper which I suspected was the number of the ward. I thanked the efficient help and turned in the right direction based on the arrows on the walls to finally find my brother. I only made a few steps down the hall when I noticed another nurse.

One of her hands was stuffed into the pocket of her blue uniform and looked as if she was entirely engrossed, studying a large collection of papers she was holding in her other hand.

I thought it would do no harm if I addressed her. "Excuse me, do you speak English?" I inquired from her back where her rich, chocolate brown hair fell in curls.

When she turned I had the opportunity to study her creamy olive skin, which wasn't ruined by any cosmetics. Her doe eyes seemed especially large behind her thin framed glasses.

"Ah, Mr. Salvatore," she flashed me a faint smile which I thought looked quite fake on her face. "Allow me to introduce myself. I'm Marie Gilbert. You talked to me on the phone." She nodded at me, speaking English fluently. Although it was admittedly faster than the average. Since it hadn't been the appropriate moment, I stored it in a corner of my brain to ask her later where she was from.

This nurse didn't offer her hand nor was she ill at ease. She merely did her job. She motioned me to follow her and began explaining the successful surgery. But the more closer we got to ward fourteen, the less I could comprehend her words because during our walk, I braced myself for what I would see when we step into the room.

Every step I took brought me closer to the hospital bed. At first I only saw the corner of it. Then I had a clear view of the sheets and finally I found myself face to face with my little brother's enthusiastic smile. He was clutching a newspaper in his hands and was drinking in each line of it with fascination. Apart from his splinted leg, there wasn't any indications that he had any serious problems.

"Stefan!" his name ripped out of me with relief and I hurried over to the bed.

My brother looked up in surprise from his magazine, but a wide smile spread across his face immediately. He threw away the papers in his hand carelessly and opened his arms in a hugging gesture.

"Brother, what are you doing here?" he asked while I brotherly patted his shoulder.

"You scared me big time! I traveled straight from Hawaii to you," I answered seriously.

It was so good to see him this carefree. It made me believe that there was nothing wrong and everything would be fine. I would stay here one or two days just in case, then the shooting could go on again. Everything could go back to normal.

"You hadn't come from the neighborhood. How did you travel?" Stefan asked curiously, whose hair wasn't carefully groomed this time. Instead, it was messy and looked like a haystack on his head. But his smile was the usual.

"Not good. But let's not talk about me," I protested vehemently. Sometimes I told him about the shootings gladly, but this time, his condition was much more important. "How are you feeling?"

"It's strange, but good… but without a leg," he frowned. He averted his gaze and stared picking at edge of his blanket

At his statement, my mouth went dry and suddenly I didn't know what to say. Stefan noticed it too, who in the meantime, unlike me, hadn't forgotten that we weren't alone in the room.

"Marie, please, could you explain the situation to my brother?" He turned to the girl, who was watering a purple-flowered plant in a brick-red pot on the windowsill.

Her head snapped up at the address. She put down the glass she used for watering the plant and walked beside us. Maybe it was just me who felt it intentional but it didn't seem as though she stood the furthest from me by the side of the bed by accident.

"A large foreign object was lodged into your brother's thigh. It was successfully removed by our specialist. However, during the fall, he broke a thigh bone and a piece of his pelvic bone, and moreover a large bruise can be found on his leg…"

Her objective tone and formal words created waves in my head that clashed together violently. I turned to Stefan sharply, interrupting what the nurse had to say. "I told you this climbing thing is too dangerous! But you're rushing to your own destruction!" I scolded him.

Instead of taking it upon himself, he immediately struck back. "I'm rushing to my own destruction? It's not me who undertakes jet-ski and water-ski stunts for the sake of a movie," he fired back, referring to the leaked, admittedly true information which could be read in the magazines.

I shook my head, not wanting to get into this. Especially not in front of a nurse. "Get to the point, please," I tried to use my kindest tone and looked back at the lady pleadingly, who returned my gaze with a piercing look that made my scalp prickle.

"Your brother doesn't feel his leg. He can't move it. The worst case scenario is the possibility of paralysis, but as I said to him earlier, it's possible that it's just the effect of the shock. Like a defense mechanism by the nervous System against the pain." She said, not taking her eyes off of me.

Her face was rigid, but as soon as she turned her head toward Stefan it softened. "I have to go, but call me if you need anything, Stefan."

Then she left the room with graceful steps but I stared at the door leading to the hallway for a long time. I didn't even notice it until my baby bro brought it to my attention. "She's something, isn't she?" He raised his eyebrows with a grin and I patted his shoulder.

"I see you're really all right," I concluded with a smile and looked for a chair.

I sat down and listened as Stefan began speaking about climbing gears he read about in the magazine.

* * *

 **ELENA**

There could be so much Damon Salvatore in the world. Why did this one have to be here? I sulked due to the fact that Caroline was right. I did not particularly care about that I was wrong. I was more pissed off for the fact that a little celebrity set his foot in the already turned upside down Italian city, Verona.

I wouldn't say I thoroughly knew his past and his working history. But he was not notorious because of that. It was his pretty face that made him famous. One of the famous American newspapers, _People_ , also selected Damon Salvatore into Earth's ten sexiest men. And to be honest, there was truth in what they said.

He was good-looking, and it was visible through his shirt that he was well-trained. He wore designer clothes, his raven hair always stayed perfectly in place even if it was rain or shine. His skin was a bit tanned, like he was on vacation. His face was carefully shaven and oddly enough there was something captivating in his eyes. And let's not forget his curved line lips. He was a true lady killer.

He's just empty-headed, like everyone else in that business. They weren't worth the trouble and yet the teenage girls were nuts about them. But as the saying went 'Let he who is without sin cast the first stone'. I was just like that for a long time, but fortunately I was looking at the world with different eyes now. I was trying to leave the person I was behind me.

"It's him! It's really him! Oh, my God, I can't believe it!" Caroline jumped on me as I reached the counter.

She loosened her grip and because she was a religious person she quickly made the sign of the cross for her choice of words earlier. But her enthusiasm didn't subside.

"I'm surprised you didn't pass out," I remarked teasingly but then I smiled sweetly at the nurse playing offended.

We started to arrange the data in chronological order for the visit later. While I was trying not to make mistakes among many dates, I had to listen as Caroline enthused about the actor in our hospital with her whirling Italian dialect. She analyzed every one of his roles and shared his funny stories. She didn't even care I showed not an ounce of interest in her favorite celebrity, who appeared at the counter half an hour later.

"Mr. Salvatore. What can I do for you?" I inquired in a smarmy voice and my friend ever so slightly stepped on my foot from behind the counter.

The man adjusted his hair with a fleeting gesture but he kept his eyes on mine in the meantime. I had to admit, his eye color was a beautiful shade of blue but that didn't change the facts.

"Well, you could call me Damon, as a first step," he suggested lightly.

I took in the request indifferently. "Just as you please, Damon," I puckered up my lips mockingly which referred to my hidden thoughts. A celebrity like him was used to that: everything happened the way he wanted. "Anything else?"

He didn't ponder on his next wish long, which he shared with a natural flattery as well. "And I could buy you a coffee, if you have time. You could tell me what will happen to my brother."

His words drove me into a frenzy. Maybe he didn't know this but it wasn't custom here. Especially while being so cocky, like he was doing me a favor. He stepped over the line with his request: the line between the distanced nurse – relative relationship and the chatting woman – man relationship.

I squinted my eyes at Caroline, who even with her scanty knowledge of English could take out the word 'coffee'. She shot such a murderous glare at me that, without a doubt, could only mean one thing: _if you refuse it, I will strangle you with my own hands!_ Yet, I couldn't make up my mind. The memories were still too vivid in my head for me to say yes to a pompous celebrity's seemingly innocent offer. People like him always wanted something.

"It's just a coffee. I don't want anything else." He clarified, like he was reading my mind. He raised his eyebrow while he waited for my answer. His gaze didn't suggest neither impudence nor revolting illusions. Pure warmth radiated from them, which finally convinced me.

"Just a coffee? Okay." I agreed.

I pushed away the visit papers and went towards the canteen with Damon Salvatore by my side.

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	4. All The World's A Stage

**Hey there! The next chapter is here, and the complications are slowly starting to appear! I'm really glad for the alerts and reviews, I hope I can manage to present you with many many surprising and thought-provoking chapters :)**

 **Enjoy reading! :)**

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 _"All the world's a stage, and all the men and women merely players: they have their exits and their entrances; and one man in his time plays many parts, his acts being seven ages." - William Shakespeare_

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 **Chapter 3: All The World's a Stage**

 **DAMON**

"Just a coffee. I don't want anything else," I made it clear, seeing the doubt in the nurse's eyes.

I thought it better to let her know my intentions were entirely decent. I solely wanted to talk about my little brother's condition. And if I was wasting her precious time, I thought it would be only fair to invite her for a cheap, hospital coffee at least.

"Just a coffee? Okay." She finally nodded and stepped out from behind the counter.

She walked in the other direction of the corridor with firm steps and I followed her, relying on her local knowledge. We made our way in an awkward silence to the canteen on the ground floor, which was lit brightly due to the large windows. Across the large glasses, you could see night slowly falling over Verona.

Because of its picturesque sight, I wasn't surprised that several patients stayed in the room. But fortunately, among those who were present, there was hardly anyone who could know my name. Which was good news for me, because I didn't think I could stomach anyone asking for an autograph.

I was aware that my fans would eventually find out my trip to Italy. Because nowadays my every step was followed by journalists and photographers. If they won't find me in Hawaii, they would know to harass Alaric with questions and he wouldn't lie. He wouldn't have to, because there was nothing to be ashamed of when you rush to your brother to the hospital. But I didn't want to make the businesses of my family public. This was a private matter and I could only hope they would understand.

" _Un caffé nero, per favore,"_ spoke the nurse as we stepped to the counter.

Behind it, a chubby, kind-faced woman did her job. As we reached her, a wide smile spread across her face and turned to us happily. After Marie made her order, she glanced at me, waiting for mine with interest.

"The same," I said quickly. I felt uneasy due to my lacking language skills and I looked at the nurse for help, who was at home in Italian.

" _Essere duo"_ she translated, or at least made it clear to the buffet attendant what I wanted.

We waited for our coffees in silence while the nurse feasted her eyes on the landscape and her lips curled into a bittersweet smile. As if a lost past memory drew her in.

"How come you speak English so well?" the question burst out of me suddenly, which was formulated among the first ones in my mind. In response, I got a disinterested look, before she slowly turned back towards the window.

I almost gave up on the conversation after several seconds of silence, but then I finally got an answer in the form of words. "I've been living her for only two years. I was born in in the US, by the way," she answered.

It only fueled the flame of my curiosity further instead of soothing it. If she was a US citizen, then why would she travel this far to work in a hospital? Did she move out here with her family or alone? More and more questions exploded in my mind like firecrackers and I couldn't stop all of them.

"Where did you live exactly?" I inquired freely.

Although I could tell she didn't want to talk about herself, selfishly I wanted to know more and more about her. Despite the fact that my primal interest was my brother's condition.

The roundish woman chose this moment to place a tray before us with two cups on it. The pitch-black coffee was still steaming as Marie took the plastic tray and I searched for my wallet in my back pocket. But only when it was opened had I realized that I couldn't pay for the drinks.

"I only have dollars with me. I didn't have time to change." I explained myself after an uttered curse.

I glanced up apologetically to an already resentful brown pair of eyes that looked at me as if I had done something terrible. Finally, she connived at my forgetfulness and started speaking with the woman on their common language about something I didn't understand. I listened through it patiently.

" _Grazie!"_ I caught the last word before we found ourselves a table.

"It completely slipped my mind but I'll pay it back double," I promised as I sat down on one of the chairs. I took the cup in my hands and I could still feel its heat through the ceramic.

"Forget it." The nurse waved her hand impatiently and brought up our original topic in an objective tone. "What would you like to know about your brother?"

Everything. I would've preferred to say, because that was the truth. But I had a hunch that the brunette in front of me wouldn't have appreciated this answer so I tried to put valuable questions together in my mind. It didn't matter that she had already briefly talked Stefan's condition. I wanted her to elaborate on the matter and what we should expect.

"What are the odds for his complete recovery?" I asked this first, because I thought this was the most important.

I wanted to know what our chances were when it came to my brother's leg. I didn't want to play with the possibility that he could be paralyzed for the rest of his life. But I already knew we couldn't rule that out. Especially not after such a fall. Yet I still wished Marie would disprove my thoughts. It didn't matter that she was the one who enlightened me about this possibility.

"We can't say anything for sure yet. As I have said, there could be all kinds of outcome, but if you want specifics, you'll have to ask the doctor." She informed me as if I didn't know this myself.

She glanced away from me and with a graceful movement, she raised her cup and carefully took a sip from her hot drink. After she lowered the ceramic, she gently sucked on her lower lip.

It was a small gesture, of which she was probably unaware, but it evoked memories in me. It stirred up such memories, which made me who I was today. But I didn't remember them gladly. My whole life and thinking were affected by them.

Moreover, every one of them could be connected to one person only. The one who ruined my life, the princess of middle school, the girl who could crush everyone. And she did, with the losers like I was.

"I could give you his contact if you're interested." The nurse's soft voice pulled me out of my thoughts and after several blinks I took a closer look at her like I did when I first arrived here.

Her rich, chocolate brown hair fell in curls on her back and her slender shoulders. Her round face was well-groomed while her eyes were watchful behind her glasses. One of her soft curved eyebrows was raised up in question, because she was definitely waiting for my answer, but I was so engrossed in her features, that I couldn't concentrate on our topic.

Eventually, I took out my acting skills and pretending like nothing had happened, I pulled myself together and replied. "Thank you, but I want to hear _your_ opinion."

I drank in all of her movements that followed my statement and I analyzed her every gesture to convince myself: I only imagined it.

Neatly filed nails, slender fingers born to play the piano, model like figure and a well-shaped body which was currently covered by her nurse uniform. Lips shining from pink lip-gloss, and those brown eyes that could be so entrancing.

But they weren't. She was the angel of moderation and rejection. It was obvious she only wanted to earn one title: the unattainable. That made me sure who was sitting in front of me. It didn't matter that the chances were down to zero. I simply knew and involuntarily, my mouth formed a sarcastic smile. _Hello, Elena._

* * *

 **ELENA**

Hearing his reply just made my eyebrow shoot up in surprise. I felt like he was just playing with me. Every one of his words felt like they had a second meaning. Which wouldn't have been surprising because what else could you expect from an actor whose life consisted of putting on a show, be it before or behind the camera.

The man sitting across from me at the small table didn't take his eyes off of me and it started to disturb me. He was eyeing me hungrily and it felt like I was some cheap product as he looked at every square inch of my body. I never used to be embarrassed when gazes fell upon me, in fact: I loved the attention. But now, like many things, that has changed too. The woman who I was then no longer existed.

"My opinion is that we should wait a few days. Then we could say something certain." I said, letting him in on what I was thinking about his brother's case.

I wouldn't have dared to say anything specific, because we hardly knew anything. So I decided against it even though I regarded the chance of Stefan Salvatore climbing Mont Blanc in a year more likely than living the rest of his life in a wheelchair. But I couldn't tell that to his brother, because no medical data confirmed my conception. It was just a hunch. A good one.

But there were also bad ones. For example, as to how long the starlet would stay in town and what was he planning during his visit. I wanted to stay as far away from him as possible in the meantime, because for an inexplicably reason his proximity irritated me. His satisfied look that told me he knew exactly how good-looking he was and he wasn't afraid to use it made me shiver, and so did his smile. But I wouldn't fall for him if he tried something with me. I wasn't that type of person who fell into the same trap twice.

Fortunately, for the time being, it appeared that he didn't want anything else except for answers for his annoying questions.

"Then we wait," he nodded, accepting my standpoint and raised the cup to his lips to taste Agatha's heavenly coffee.

During his silence, I had the opportunity to think about what kind of life he was living. I didn't have to ponder too long to know: he always got everything he wanted. Things in life fell into his lap, and others pushed the obstacles away from him. He didn't have to do anything than to put on his typical smile, which made millions of girls melt into a puddle before the screens.

Allegedly he was a talented actor, but I couldn't comment about that. His singing voice was, however, undoubtedly good even though he was wasting it on meaningless love songs they pushed before him as finished products.

"So… Where are you from exactly?" he posed the question on my past again with tilted head.

I sucked in a long breath. It wasn't my habit to answer questions of strangers, especially when those questions applied to a bygone life. Nevertheless, pictures of soaring buildings swam before my eyes immediately, and the characteristic corners of Roxborough High School appeared in the slide show in my mind as well as other things.

People, who called themselves friends, but they were never more than vile human beings. Shameful acts and sins, which I was still paying the price for.

"I lived in Philadelphia," I replied eventually.

I quickly swallowed another sip of my coffee so I didn't have to speak during that short time. I enjoyed the hot drink burning down my throat while I tried to forget about the piercing look that was currently aimed at me.

"What a coincidence! I'm from Philadelphia too!" my speaking partner smiled and became quite enthusiastic from this fact that filled me with no pleasure at all.

I would've preferred if a piano had fallen on my head than to have anything in common with Damon Salvatore. I would seriously start running to the hills if we started chatting about the beauty of the town. I felt like standing up and leaving, putting an end to this conversation. But because I knew that I couldn't avoid meeting him in the hospital for the next couple of days, I gathered enough strength and tried to put a good face on. Hiding my emotions had always been an easy job…

"It's unbelievable that we met here. And it's even possible that we went to the same school." He carried on and at his last words the smile I forced onto my face earlier dropped.

"No, that's impossible," I shook my head, trying to avoid my least favorite topic. Though I felt I was walking on eggshells. "Philadelphia is a big city. I don't think we've ever met."

Although my explanation wasn't entirely true, I would remember if I had met someone similar-looking like him. However, he wouldn't remember me like this if it was indeed true. I was different back then, the complete opposite of my present self. Since then I have walked past my old acquaintances on the streets and they hadn't even recognized me. And I had wanted exactly that: to become invisible.

"What a story would that be." he flashed me a nice smile, which brought back even more memories.

Faces flashed before my eyes, that I tried to shove into the very depths of my mind for years and now he dragged them out in no time. "And tell me, why did you come so far from home?"

His question wasn't supposed to surprise me, but I knew that he wouldn't understand the reason. No one did and no one would. Ever.

"I came this far so that my past couldn't follow me," it slipped out of my mouth as a reply before I could stop it while I added the rest in my mind: _but it seems you can't run from everything._

Something strange lit up in Damon's eyes and I didn't know what to do with that. It was like he was about to throw the final blow and was wondering when and how should he strike. I didn't understand how I came to this conclusion, but I began to fear what this conversation could stir up inside of me.

"Excuse me…" I whispered and I put regret in my voice.

I got up from my seat and ignoring my half empty cup, I was prepared to leave the area. I wanted to flee, further away from something unknown, which was represented by this man. His perfect-looking nature and stupid pretty boy idea that I created around him shattered into pieces in that moment when I realized the impossible from his look.

He knew me… He knew my past.

I folded my arms over my chest while I turned away from him and began heading toward the hallway. But I only made it a few steps before the deep voice spoke again.

His next words caused my knees to tremble. "You really don't remember, do you?"

I composed myself and hid behind a confident woman's role. I turned my head back to him. In a puzzled tone, I asked what was obvious to him. "What should I remember?"

He pushed himself up from the chair and straightened up. His features were hard and his eyes shone with brutal honesty. He was eyeing me like he couldn't believe what he saw.

His uncomprehending voice was just the icing on the cake.

"Me."

* * *

 **Well, well... Damon and Elena aren't strangers! But what happened in the past?**

 **I hope you liked it! I'll give you a virtual hug if you leave me a review :)**

 **twitter: nicole_baka**


	5. The Darkest Shadow

**A/N: So I'm here with the next chapter, which dissects the past of Delena. To be honest, I'm a little sad about the lack of feedback I'm getting for this story but I promised myself I won't bitch about it. But it would be nice to know what you think, even if it's** **constructive criticism.**

 **And I'm still curious about what you think about the letter in the prologue. Who wrote it? Damon or Elena?**

 **xo  
** **Niki**

* * *

 _"The brightest flame casts the darkest shadow."_  
 _― George R.R. Martin_

* * *

 **Chapter 4: The Darkest Shadow**

 **DAMON**

"Me,"

My own voice sounded unfamiliar to my ears. Like an elaborate music of distant sounds, it still echoed in my thoughts dully while I waited for a reply for my previously asked question. Though I was almost sure in her answer.

She looked me over stiffly, as if scared of my revelation. I saw horror in her eyes, but not a sign of recognition. She eyed me with her wide brown eyes, then swallowed nervously, turned away and stormed off. I didn't follow her nor did I shout after her. I decided to leave her some time to process what I had said. Because there would be some things for her to digest, if she preserved the picture of the boy I was in grade school in a tiny corner of her memory. Then she must also be aware of what she did to me… That she ruined my childhood.

I drained the remaining black caffeine bomb from the bottom of my cup, then with a _Grazie_ I returned the dinnerware set to the so far lovely woman, who this time looked at me sharply. I turned away from her and tried to flee in the shortest route from the pressure of the sterile hospital atmosphere. After I picked up my suitcase I searched for the exit.

As I was leaving Caterina Da Siena hospital, I took out my phone and speed dialed my parents' number. I heard the same monotone, robotic voice like every time when they weren't home for some reason, which happened pretty often. I left a message saying I was in Verona with Stefan, who albeit having a serious accident, we could be optimistic. I wanted to be that and I would've liked if our parents had believed in that either, that's why I tried to formulate positive sentences. Also I finally managed to have a longer conversation with our sister, without her shaking me off because of her work and I promised her I would give baby bro her good wishes.

I searched for the nearest car rental office while I tried to conceal my identity with sunglasses and a baseball cap. I was on my third call when I finally found one.

"Finally, you called me! I was beginning to believe that you were swallowed up whole at the end of the world." My manager's voice snapped up in annoyance and relief as he picked up the phone after two rings.

I could almost see him in his office, clutching a stress ball, or throwing it against a wall while he addressed me with lecturing words.

"I'm in Verona, Alaric, it's not at the end of the world," I brought to his attention while I leaned my back against the ribbed wall of a row of houses and glanced at the cobblestone road. I felt the rough surface of the wall through my shirt, which was heated up throughout the day by the bright rays of the sparkling orb in the sky.

"For me, your colleagues and fans it's the same. How long will you stay there?" he asked, and though his question seemed insensitive, I knew he indeed cared about whether my family was all right and didn't expect me to leave my brother here alone. He would understand that I felt like I needed to stay with Stefan now and he would take care of getting this information to the media in the most discreet way.

"Certainly for a while. I'll wait until the doctors can say something sure about Stefan's condition. My God, Ric, there's a chance he would become paralyzed." The worst case scenario ripped out of my mouth. But I had to share it with someone. I couldn't keep this kind of information inside me while it settled on my chest like a heavy stone and barely let me breath. I didn't want to watch as my lively, always mercurial brother got into a wheelchair. It simply couldn't happen.

"All right, Damon, take it easy. Don't worry about work, I'll take care of the shooting and I can get rid of the journalists for a while. And if you feel that you're ready: inform the world what is going on with you, okay?" he rattled off in his usual thoughtful voice just as fatherly as always when it came to my state of mind.

Alaric was the one who discovered me. He saw talent in me when nobody else did and put hope in me when I started to believed there was nothing valuable in me. He was my support in this crazy world and I considered him my best friend. Which was a little weird, seeing as he made a living out of my money. But I never skimped with his salary, because without him I wouldn't have been where I was now. And he always said that if I hadn't come along he would've gone bankrupt because none of his clients he took under his wings had lived up to expectations. We've helped each other and since then, we shared everything that came along: be it success or failure. And now I really was in need for support.

"Okay. I'll call you as soon as I know something for sure," I assured him, then as I looked up to the darkening sky, I remembered something else. "But until then could you do something for me?"

"What is it?"

"Could you book me a modest accommodation here, please?" I summed up my wish in a question, though I knew he wouldn't say no. I already heard his fingers flying quickly on his computer's keyboard.

"Under the usual alias?" he asked and continued to write something.

I examined the flower-filled columns while thinking over my answer. Usually when I travelled somewhere for private matter I didn't use my real name for hotel reservations or anything else, because I didn't want to be the causer of hysterics. The situation was the same this time, so in a short time, I nodded in approval.

"Yes,"

I heard a few more clicks, then Alaric let out a sigh and noted. "Well, Mr. Daniel Saltzman, I am pleased to inform you that I got you a room," joked my manager, whose last name I adopted in cases like this.

If someone asked me if we were relatives, I always answered that we were as good as brothers.

"The address is in your phone," he added and I felt the vibration of my phone against my cheek that I got a new message.

"Thanks, Ric." I sighed gratefully.

"No problem. Take care of yourself! And don't forget to inform me." He changed his tone into a harder one after he showed so much care earlier on.

I ended the call and sucked in a deep breath from the Italian air, which was mixed with the smell of pizza, wine and flowers. Sound of laughter was coming from the upstairs windows and I saw the early evening time clearly on the illuminated clock tower of the Basilica. Seeing that I could only hope that my target shop was still open

I was lucky, so I pressed down the copper door handle and entered the premises. As a result, the bell that was fixed above the door, let out a playful melody. This drew the attention of the owner that a client has arrived. When the laid-back business man made his way down the stairs, I have already picked out the car closest to my heart from the catalogue.

* * *

 **ELENA**

Cheese. Tomato. Canned fish. Milk. All in all, that was the contents of my fridge, which was extremely disappointing on this evening as I got home from work. The overtime definitely didn't do any good to my physique. I was tired and grouchy, but my meeting with Damon Salvatore could be held responsible for the latter.

I slammed the refrigerator door and stood on my toes to reach the pasta on the top shelf of the built-in kitchen cabinet. In my childhood, I deprived myself from the enjoyment caused by carbohydrates because I sought to have a slim figure. In senior year, after quitting cheerleading, I grew into a habit of eating pasta dishes.

One of the reasons why I chose Italy as my new living place was my passion for the Italian cuisine. The other reason was to get as far away from my previous one as possible. I had hoped that no one would come this far. I was wrong.

While I was throwing together the desired mixture from the ingredients of the tomato sauce, I tried to shoo my rushing thoughts away.

I didn't want the past to engulf me. Then I had fled this far to no purpose. The events of the past hadn't hurt me for a long time, I had almost forgotten about them and I felt myself a different person. However, this annoying dandy ruined everything.

 _But how would I know him?_ I wondered lengthily until I recognized a former classmate of mine in the last years of grade school in his features.

 _But no, it's impossible!_ I told myself and I ascribed the characteristics that appeared to be similar for a few seconds to coincidence.

I didn't want to deal with that, so I carefully avoided Stefan Salvatore's ward for the rest of the evening for fear of running into his brother. His assumption, however, didn't let me rest. What if we really knew each other? Those years had blurred in my memory, moreover they contained things that I never wanted to bring to the surface. I didn't dare face them.

"Hey, Rambo, calm down," I gestured my dog to be patient, who was whining by my leg and wagged his tail. The Cairn terrier was already licking his mouth from the smell of the in progress sauce and pleaded for a small tasting with glistening black orbs.

"We can eat soon," I continued to speak to my pet as if he was human.

I always did that. The company of my social life has been narrowed down to him for years now. Pathetic? Maybe. But I knew he would never do anything like the people I considered my friends once upon a time to me. He was my everything in my solitude. My parents, though they claimed to understand me, they would've rather sent me to a shrink with my problems than to actually help me. And they did.

I was seeing Dr. Anders for two years until I realized that even he couldn't help me. Only the distance and oblivion could. That was the price.

And until today, this new life had seemed like a good solution. It was a life, which the power-hungry men didn't get to play a role in. The men who thought they could own me. I tried to be good in this life, tried to help people, not like in former times when my selfishness hadn't known any boundaries. I thought I deserved what I would get, but I was wrong. It was a frequent mistake. After all, I was only human.

"It's done!" I removed the heavenly smelled sauce from the stove minutes later.

The aroma of oregano and basil mingled with the characteristics of Italian food. I put the frying pan on the kitchen table and laid a plate and Rambo's metal bowl beside it. The sight beyond my window captivated me for a second and I stared at the clock tower mesmerized, as its bell signaled the late time.

The barking of my dog pulled me back and his yelping urged me to scoop the finished pasta into the plates. "Patience, Rambo. Now you have to wait till it cools down. I don't want you to burn your tongue." I turned to the puppy who could hardly contain himself.

I tickled him under the chin and went into the bathroom to wash my hands. However, when I walked back towards the kitchen I came to a halt. My eyes caught on the massive cabinet in the living room and I then decided, that once and for all, I would clarify this ridiculous misunderstanding.

The door of the furniture creaked open and the typical smell of late autumn leather jackets and winter coats struck my senses. From under the pile of clothes, from the depth of the cabinet I dug up an old, big shoe box and collapsed on the butter-colored, Italian leather couch with it in my lap.

My fingers were shaking as I reached for the lid of the box. I hadn't opened it up in a long time… I considered this as development: I thought I managed to let go of my past, or at least the painful parts of it, that could all be found in this cardboard box. I lifted the lid off and as I spotted the photos and items underneath it, I wasn't nearly as confident that I could and want to do it. Dr. Anders thought it was a good therapeutic method to lock your fears in a box or those objectified memories, people that we would want to forget. So we could easily imagine that we threw this box in the sea or burnt it with its contents. Sometimes I wonder why I didn't do that. But the answer had been in front of me all along: because I wanted to remember who I was. That helped me differentiate the good and the bad.

"Rambo, hush! Mrs. Flowers doesn't like when you whine so much!" I scolded my dog who persistently circled around the kitchen counter.

I was the tenant of the kind woman and she didn't exactly like that I took in the "dirty little mongrel" from the streets. But I promised that everything would be fine. Fortunately, Mr. Francisco, the war hero adored dogs, so when I was at work, Rambo was with him.

I turned back to the box and quickly grabbed the object I was looking for: my elementary school yearbook. In the USA it was tradition to make a yearbook every year, but I only kept two. One of them was made in the last year of grade school. I looked up the musty smelled volume and specifically searched for my former class. As the dust rose from the sheets, my mind filled with old memories about school competitions, scrimmages in the canteen and memorable lessons.

I held my breath back when I caught sight of myself on one of the pages. I reached the right section. My heart was in my throat as I ran my eyes over the page and when I was about to relax, I spotted the impossible: **DAMON SALVATORE**. His name was there in capital letters on the page, a little far from my own.

On the picture there was a boy with curly, jet-black hair, and I had difficulties recognizing the ten-year-later lady-killer in those features. But undoubtedly that was him. The worst part is that I remembered what happened to him… because of me. Because I didn't stop the others.

A crashing sound hit my ears from the direction of the kitchen. I slammed the yearbook shut and shot up from the couch to run towards the source of the sound to find out what happened.

"Rambo!" I shook my head disapprovingly as I saw that my dog was licking up the sauce from the ground.

I took a deep breath to calm myself, then started to clean up the mess. Maybe it was better this way. At least it switched my brain off for a while. I was hoping this would help to get the emerging pictures out of my head about the taunted boy, the loser, my old classmate, who had become a big star since then…

* * *

 **Oh well, I just pulled a TVShow!Elena and put her box in there. Well it's not exactly a Damon box but still... So this chapter wasn't really eventfull, but next one will start the main thread of the story finally :)**


	6. Mysterious Ways

**A/N: Hey there! I'm here again with the next chapter! Thank you to everyone who left a feedback so far, I'm really appreciating every one of your reviews! *hugs**

 **Confession: Today I watched all the episodes of S7 FOR THE FIRST TIME. Yes... I was afraid Elena's absence would be too depressing for me, but to be honest, this season isn't really that horrible what I'd thought it to be. They keep mentioning Elena (especially Damon), and they aren't disrespecting Damon or Delena's relationship. (Thank God). Ok enough of me, here's the chapter! :)**

 **Xo  
** **Niki**

* * *

 _"Everything that irritates us about others can lead us to an understanding of ourselves." -_ _Carl Jung_

* * *

 **Chapter 5: Mysterious Ways**

 **DAMON**

Days passed with no sight of Elena. It was more than likely that she was trying to avoid me or was even afraid of another meeting. Miss "I'm Better Than Anyone" was never ashamed of confrontation when I knew her, and got into many heated debates about the most ridiculous topics such as the school's most handsome boys and the current fashion trend.

She had been shallow and most of what she used to say was meaningless. On top of that she had been beyond irritating. Maybe it was because her self-awareness was more prominent than others, especially among the girls she would hang around with. Of course her friends were exactly like her but she always seemed to be that much worse with her fake, innocent eyes and sly smile.

" _Ecco_ ," the nice lady from behind the canteen counter pushed my coffee before me.

Although I had visited her multiple times over the past couple of days, I had never heard her talk more than one word in our customer-server exchanges. She seemed to only inform me of the absolute necessary thing I needed to know, whereas she chatted quite cheerfully with other customers. I had a feeling it wasn't because of my lack of Italian knowledge.

" _Grazie,_ " I replied, still smiling at the woman despite her giving me the cold shoulder.

It wasn't her fault that Elena had managed to wrap the poor woman around her little finger with her fake charm, like she did with many others.

I moved away from the counter, slowly sipping my caffeinated drink. A few moments later my phone began to ring when my phone began to ring, I reached into my pocket and thoughtlessly answered without glancing at the screen

"Oh my God, Damon!" squeaked a high pitched woman's voice.

I furrowed my brow in confusion. "Hello? Who is it?" I inquired, unsure of the identity of the caller.

"I was so worried about you! One minute you were on the set and the next you were gone! No one said or told me anything. It was only today that I finally managed to get information out of Alaric, which was like getting blood out of a stone, by the wy! Any way he told where you are, but he didn't say why…" Andie rattled off with ease and didn't seem to need to take a breath between words.

"Don't tell me you miss me, Andie," I teased, grinned involuntarily as I imagined the woman who played my lover in the new movie I was shooting.

I never found sadness in her eyes, or facial expression. She was a woman with happiness, positivity and joy. Her honey-blonde hair always looked perfect and there was no argument that she was a beautiful creature. She always took her work seriously, like I did, which was why we got on so well.

"Don't be so full of yourself, handsome!" she scolded. I could almost picture her saw scrunching up her nose at my statement. "Just tell me what you are doing in Italy. If you want to go on a vacation, it would be better to do it after the movie is finished." she muttered sarcastically.

I sighed softly and wished it was only about overly eccentric habits rather than my brother's accident. Unfortunately, the stars wouldn't grant such wishes.

"Do you remember when I told you about my younger brother, Stefan?" I paused as I waited for her 'ahem' of confirmation. "He took a trip here to climb some mountains. Don't ask, I think he's an idiot. But he had an accident," I informed her. My voice had dropped to a hushed and private level, even though the canteen was mostly empty and no one would want to eavesdrop on me anyway.

"But…it's not serious…is it?" Her voice was worried and almost trembled.

I wondered why she was so bothered. Nevertheless I assured her that Stefan had showed improvements in the last few days. I then asked her if she could notify me about what was going on with the shooting.

During our conversation I slowly finished off my coffee and started heading towards ward fourteen. On my way, however, due to a sudden idea, I came to a halt before the nurse's station where the 'always blushing' Caroline stood. Me and Andie said our goodbyes before I hung up and put my phone away. I looked up and knocked on the white, metal surface and cleared my throat so that she would look up from the papers she was reading. She put her hand over her mouth to prevent herself from crying out. She combed the tangled curls from her eyes confusedly and her bright eyes stared at me.

"Hello!" she greeted me with a strong accent and an obvious flirt in tone which I noted with a faint smile. "Can I help you?" she added.

Her able-bodied question surprised me after our previous, not so effective communication attempt on my first day here. Despite this I was glad we had more room to talk and I didn't hesitate to answer. I articulated the words circumstantially for her to better understand what I was saying.

"I want to ask you about your colleague, Elena Gilbert," From her confused expression I remembered that Elena had been using another name here, for whatever reason so I corrected the provided name "About Marie."

"Oh…you like her?" Caroline asked, curiosity coloring the question. I couldn't decide if my enquiry stunned, or excited her. But hers made me laugh. As if I ever would!

"Let's just say we're old acquaintances. Perhaps you could tell me why she has been avoiding me?" I interrogated her, and waited for her to process my question, which wasn't quick due to her limited language skills.

"Umm…Marie don't like…stars. She be like that." She muttered in broken English.

"I understand. Thank you," I nodded at her.

On a whim, I decided to place a kiss on her dainty hand as I knew it was a gesture Italian women were accustomed to. After all, how else could I thank the help of a fan?

I didn't want to embarrass Caroline, so I turned away as soon as I released her hand. I walked straight to my brother's ward. I hadn't even reached the door when I heard Stefan's voice.

"No, Marie, please. Just a minute. Would you adjust my pillow?"

The accident hadn't changed a thing about him, I thought to myself with an eye roll. I entered the room just as the nurse had put the eiderdown that was holding my brother's back in its place. When he noticed my presence, a wide grin spread across his face.

"Damon! I didn't know you were coming back…"

His statement confused me. I remembered stating clearly that I was sticking around to watch over him. "I told you I was only going for a coffee," I explained, raising my eyebrows.

Stefan waved his hand in a physical gesture that told me he had waved the incident off. "Must have escaped my notice. But anyway, look who is here!" he gestured to who he believed to be Marie, but who I knew was Elena.

At the mention of her presence, she began to pick at the hem of her uniform in agitated awkwardness. She then grabbed her notebook from the night stand beside Stefan and bypassed me to leave the room, all the while keeping her eyes downcast. "Excuse me…"

I glanced after her in confusion for a while. Mostly because her modesty was quite believable and Stefan waved his hand in a physical gesture that told me he had waved the incident off. . But then I found myself hurrying after her, breaking out of my stupor.

"Wait, Elena! Can we talk?" I grabbed my old acquaintance's arm when I finally caught up with her.

At my touch she violently ripped her arm out of my hold. It was so sudden that I was momentarily frightened. I scowled at her, watching her dramatic reaction as if she had been shocked by a live wire. She whirled around to face me, her eyes narrowed and stance defensive. I raised my eyebrow at her.

"Why do you have to call me 'Elena'? Why do you have to remind me of the past? Enjoying yourself?" she spat.

I didn't quite understand what she was implying. I had only called her on the name I had gotten the chance to know her several years ago. The name that I had heard countless times in the school corridor, the one that had been often present in my dreams throughout my school years.

"You think by changing your name, your past will change too?" I asked, but the answer only manifested itself on a pale cheek. Before 'Marie' could reply, a guy in a frock graced our presence and with a quick apology he took the nurse with him.

* * *

 **ELENA**

I stopped cold in my tracks at Damon Salvatore's question. I felt as my face had grown pale and my insides were shaking from restrained anger and dread. I knew if I didn't get rid of him soon, the memories that I was trying to obliterate for years would take me over.

After moving away from Philadelphia, it was obvious I would use my middle name instead of the one everyone called me on before. As Marie, I could mingle with the crowd, became invisible. I could be someone I had always wanted to be. I didn't want to be the center of attention, nor did I want sumptuousness like I once had. I would have been satisfied with a happy, peaceful life, but the appearance of this little celebrity had to ruin that too.

I was about to apologize for my outburst when Lorenzo Pontrelli appeared at our sides and addressed me with a stressed look.

"Sorry for kidnapping you, but we need you. A couple of tourists came in and of course, none of them are speaking Italian," the young head physician rolled his eyes. Everyone called him Doc behind his back.

I nodded dutifully and I felt relief for not having to stay with the actor any longer. I turned my head back at the corner and only spared a glance at the celebrity standing at the corridor, who looked just as lost in that moment as his fourteen year-old self.

 **…**

Clutching a rosary in my hands, I prayed kneeling. I pressed my clasped hands to my forehead while I whispered a silent prayer. The bell tolled eleven times above my head and its loud, sharp melody echoed through the cool walls of the church for a long time. Someone walked through the hard and uncomfortable benches with quiet strides. The Mass ended minutes ago and most of the people had left the church. I, however, prayed steadily.

"Is something wrong, my child?" Father Leo sat beside me and I glanced up at him while wringing my hands.

The grey haired, kind faced man was my firm supporter in the most difficult times of my life. When I got here, he helped me to find true faith. Thanks to him I lived a new life, where I could help the fallen. Sunday Masses brought me the possibility of reconciliation and taught me to forgive. But despite confessing my sins, I still couldn't move on from them.

"My past has found me, Father…" I whispered brokenly, in a shaking voice.

"But you said Matt was gone," The priest was puzzled and placed his wrinkled but powerful hand on my shoulder in a soothing manner.

"It's not him," I protested in a choked voice. The name still caused a sickening effect in me and I wanted to cry from the pain that was gripping my chest. "He is an old classmate of mine from grade school. You know, from the time when I was…"

I searched for the right words to describe what kind of a person I was then. Father Leo, however, understood what I was trying to say without me uttering them. I told him everything once. I knew I could trust him, he was the one who knew every little part of my former life. And he still didn't condemn me. He had a big heart and he was trying to help, no matter what.

"You don't have to say it, my child. You are a different person now," he soothed me but this time without effect.

"The fact is, Father, that next to him, I don't feel that way. I can see it in his eyes what he thinks of me and that he remembers everything that I had done," I shivered at the thought.

How could I move on from my past if he was here and reminded me of the terrible things that took root in my life?

"The Lord is testing you. Prove your faith," the priest clutched my shoulder reassuringly.

He stood up then and continued his way to the sacristy in his black hood.

I looked up to the gilt-framed painting on the wall that portrayed Mary. I crossed myself one last time and putting the rosary away in my bag, I walked out of the church.

Arriving at the square in front of the sanctuary, the noon heat immediately struck me. I noted with satisfaction that the thin blouse and knee-length skirt was a good choice for the day. I touched my seemingly worthless pearl necklace around my neck and strode across the square, until an annoyingly familiar voice stopped me in my tracks at the zebra crossing.

"You're not so easy to be found," he noted appreciatively while leaning back against a blue-sky Camaro that parked nearby with a folded roof. The superstar tried to conceal his identity with sunglasses and a baseball cap.

"How did you know?" I asked sharply, though the more accurate question would have been 'why did you look for me?' But to be honest, I wasn't ready to find that one out.

Damon smiled cheekily and carelessly shrugged his shoulders. That was enough for me to know the answer. "Caroline," I muttered under my breath and stored in the back of my mind that I would have to scold my friend for this treachery.

We just stood there, hidden behind a WWI building and eyed each other like two duelists in a western movie. I looked over the man dressed in casual clothes, who I had seen countless times in TV and still didn't recognize. He had changed undoubtedly; he became a real man, lost weight and had a different kind of hairstyle. He dressed better, though since he was a celebrity, it was possible he was dressed by a stylist.

I took two steady steps towards him, reducing the distance between us to an arm's length. The heels of my shoes clicked against the cobble stones. I looked up boldly and challengingly to the bane of my new life and the all-knowing smile still lingered at the corner of his mouth. As if he knew that no matter how hard I tried to disguise, I still suffered inside.

"What do you want from me?" I asked him straight out, because I'd had enough of his games.

I didn't want to hide from him anymore at my workplace. I didn't want to feel my stomach in knots whether he would spill the beans to my colleagues of whom, and what I was or at least; had been. I didn't want to wait until he tears apart and ruins my newly built life.

Damon's expression darkened as he heard my question. I could see clearly through his dark lens glasses that he no longer looked at me with ease as he did every time we met previously. That was followed by a cold, disdainful glance. But this was entirely different. His words showed me something else.

"I want to thank you."

I thought I heard it wrong. This was impossible. "What?" it slipped past my lips in confusion.

He took off his sunglasses and repeated what he just said seriously. "I want to thank everything you did a long time ago. Everything I had to go through because of you made me who I am now. It taught me that I can be someone even when I was nothing," he explained.

It didn't even cross my mind to doubt his words because of the deep honesty they carried. Moreover, I was beginning to forget that I was speaking with a stuck-up celebrity. The situation was so surreal. Damon Salvatore, the favorite of millions, thanking the person who made his primary school years a nightmare. He was grateful for a piece of his life that filled me with shame. However, he used it as a handhold, thinking that nothing could be worse than that. And it hadn't become worse, no one would call him a loser now.

"I want to thank you for laughing at me when I wrote you a card on Valentine's Day," he continued to bring up the painful past with cruel honesty. I began to feel that this wouldn't end well. "You know, I would've followed you like a lost puppy, just like your other lapdogs, but you didn't need me. You didn't even consider me good enough to clean the dirt on your shoes. You said you wouldn't date me even if I was a millionaire and I was the last option for survival. Thank you for your honesty. Let me return the favor: now I wouldn't be able to love you even if I was that messed up, miserable little kid again and you the popular, pretty and rich girl. No, because I can see through your mask: despite the sweet exterior, you are spoiled, shallow and depraved…"

* * *

 **A/N: I know it was cruel to end the chapter here, but there are so many events that are going to happen next! There will be an interesting and (I hope) exciting twist in Delena's relationship. You just have to wait and see :) But until then, keep sharing your thoughts with me! I'm really curious about what you think :)**


	7. Grace And Rude

**A/N: So I couldn't leave you with the previous chapter's ending too long and I wrote this part as quickly as I could. But before you start reading, I have to make something a bit clearer: Damon and Elena first met in elementary school (so they had been classmates till the age of 14.), but didn't go to high school together, though. So sorry if I confused anyone with this information. I'm not from the US, therefore, I'm not really familiar with its school system and the names they use for schools and classes. But I'm learning every day!**

 **Big thanks to my always incredible and fast beta, LeighJ11!**

 **Xo  
Niki**

* * *

 _"Two such opposed foes encamp them still_  
 _In man as well as herbs, grace and rude will;_  
 _And where the worser is predominant,_  
 _Full soon the canker death eats up the plant." - William Shakespear_

* * *

 **Chapter 6: Grace and Rude**

 **DAMON**

Elena's face took on an expression of consternation. Her brown eyes danced with fear, almost transforming her into a wild animal. One that understood it was being hunted and would soon be trapped. I could see she knew exactly what I was talking about, but my words still offended her. She raised her shoulders, tensed. Her knuckles turned white from squeezing her fingers tightly.

"I've changed," she whispered, her voice shaking with anger.

I almost felt sorry for her as I noticed her hands shaking. Almost. She quickly folded her arms in front of her when she realized where my gazed lingered. Perhaps to try and soothe away her tremble or at least pretend that she could. But she couldn't stop me from noticing how afraid she was.

I never saw her in fear during our years in middle school. She was always absorbed in inconsequential things such as our school team not winning as she was part of the supporting cheerleaders. But even that, the team losing, never ruffled her, as far as I saw. Her face portrayed never ending confidence.

I used to envy the cool and calm approach she took on the football field. As if she was sure that the time would win in the end. That she would win in the end. No matter what. This was the first in all my memories of her, that I could see her being akin to uncertainty. She was taken aback, I was sure, that I was more self-assured than her now.

"I highly doubt that," I remarked sincerely, tucking my hands into my pocket superciliously. I never once took my eyes off her.

I was wondering how someone this ugly inside could be so thoroughly hidden and concealed by such a beautiful face, and body. I remember thinking that she was the most stunning female I had the pleasure of laying my eyes upon. It seemed that years later, despite my feelings towards her, I still felt that way.

She had seemed to get, impossibly, more beautiful. More beguiling. At the moment a somber expression lay over her face like a mask, as if she was watching a dying world with elegiac serenity. Sparks of anger flared up in her eyes like small flames, making even the slanted and almost saddened bone structure of her face terrifyingly beautiful.

The most beautiful angel, carved and created in the underbelly of hell, sent to make a mockery on one boy. Elena looked at me as I looked at her, waiting for her to strike. Maybe with the biting and cruel comments she had used in school. Maybe with a new hybrid version of words that were obscured by sincerity but instead burnt like the fires of which she was born from.

I was no longer afraid of her. There was a time when everyone feared her anger, because she belonged to the school's elite. But the setting had changed. She had no effect on me anymore, she couldn't intimidate me. Strangely I seemed to wait with… anticipation, or excitement for this new Elena to say something cutting, to dare to try and belittle me.

"You know nothing of my life. You judge me by who I was… How many? Ten years ago," she spoke again and there was no trace of fear in her voice. No previous tremors.

She hurled the words at my head sharp and stiff. So it was the hybrid she was using. I nearly smiled, because some small, twisted part of me was enjoying this. Waiting for an opening to strike, to take her down in to a pit of despair and loneliness, much like the pit she had dragged me to many times. The smile didn't make it all the way and she scowled at my new found smirk.

"Yeah, of course," I mocked, still smirking, still eager. "You've immediately changed in high school, a brand new person," I drawled sarcastically.

I rolled my eyes incredulously soon after, because I couldn't imagine that from one day to another, she had come to the realization that how she acted up until that point had been wrong, and cruel. A leopard cannot change its spots. Just as Cruella de Vil hadn't become a member of ASPCA.

Elena Gilbert would certainly not become a selfless helper or a do-gooder. It seemed almost as unreal as me falling in love with Justin Bieber. I thought this even after meeting her in a hospital, as a nurse. A saint, and loving angel to all the patients that relied on her to make them better, save them from sickness and death. I felt sorry for them all.

"I never said I changed so suddenly, but I'm not the same person you once knew," stated the former princess.

The word 'princess' formed in my mind within a sinister, oozing bubble of sarcasm. She had royalty when I knew her. She enjoyed being the center of attention in school, or when the boys idolized her. One snap of her finger and everyone was at her service. Any unwilling, brave soul became an outcast and regretted ever being born under her reign.

It was what it felt like to be her classmate. A commoner, a peasant, living and breathing to appease one beautiful girl. Being a silly kid, I was enchanted by the glamour that surrounded her. Her gorgeous and light smile could not be compared to any other. It captivated me from the very first moment I witnessed it.

But it wasn't only me… She did that to everyone. She knew how to draw attention to herself. When she walked through the corridor, everything slowed down and everyone stepped out of her way, just to keep their eyes trained on her every move. Awaiting a command. At this point, I didn't remember when it started. How she had managed to achieve all of that crown was not something I could recall.

"I think people like you never change. You were always good at making others, especially the teachers, see the innocent, kind and good little girl in you. Now you're playing the same game. You deceive everyone, trying to pretend to be good. Just so you can stab them in the back later on."

I was vaguely aware of how cruel I was being, how spiteful I sounded. A majority of me hated it, but it was so hard to look at her without thinking about the humiliation she put me, and other through. All that I had to endure because of her. Despite how much I hated it, I was truly grateful for the treatment.

Without it, without Elena Gilbert ruining my life, I might have been dazed by the fame when I first started my job. I might have thought of it beneath me, having won the approval and love of Elena Gilbert: Ice Queen. Without her, I may not have been able to stay so human and humble in my career.

"You have no idea what you are talking about. What gives you the right to judge when all you do is lounge around some island while people are suffering? I'm at least trying to help the world, and humanity. Repent for my sins in childhood. So who's the bad now, Damon?" she snapped.

I couldn't believe she had turned the tables on me and dismissed my accusations.

I almost felt like she had just slapped me, powerfully, across the face. None of her words of criticism were true, of course. It was obvious she didn't know my career or understand the work in it. But I didn't expect that from her. She never cared for anyone else besides herself. So why would she deal with what was going on in the world around her?

"Even if I was just basking in the sun on some island, I wouldn't be any worse than you, because I'm not trampling on people's feelings, or kicking someone when they're already down. Anyway, I work hard for my money, some of which I donate to charity. To help humanity, Elena," I spat her name in the same way she had mine.

I earned a lot of money, more than what I actually needed. I often donated to various foundations to help the hungry, the sick children and poor talents. It was important to me that my money would get to the right places. I wasn't selfish, or lazy. I helped as much as I could, gave as much of my time, effort and money as I could. Who was she to try to judge me? All these years later?

"Yeah, of course: you give money because according to your manager, it increases your popularity. But in the meantime, you don't care about what is going on in the world around you,"

I paused for a moment, simply because I was perplexed that she thought of me the same way as I did of her. My eyebrows raised in surprise. I felt like wiping that accusatory expression from her face with a derogative comment, but I didn't do it. No, because I wasn't like her. Even if she was so quick as to put me in her selfish league.

"Think whatever you want. I know the truth," I said.

I considered this part of our discussion closed. It was one thing that we both argued over what she was really like, despite her unwillingness to admit it. However, she didn't know me. So how could she form a realistic picture of me?

"No, you don't! You are blinded by all those flashlights. You're just as empty-headed as the other starlets," she spread her arms wide, her face victorious, as if she had just revealed a great truth.

She was about to start walking away when I grabbed her arm and stopped her. She even forgot to be appalled in her surprise. "Look who's talking! If I remember correctly, you were the one who wanted to be an actress. And now that your dream didn't come true, you detest everyone whose did. You are envious and a hypocrite," I didn't bat an eyelid while I regarded her and told her my opinion in a raised voice.

She looked at me with wide eyes, and even though this was the closest our lips had ever been to each other, only a few inches separated them, I did not feel the urge to kiss her. Those days were gone. And eyeing her intensely, I was quite sure that my past no longer had any effect on me. But it was possible it still had some on her…

"I'm sure nothing has changed in you. Selflessness is not your cup of tea," I shook my head in disgust as I let go of her arm but not her gaze.

Elena was looking at me like I had just signed her own death warrant, but I only let her know the truth. "You know what?" she raised one of her perfectly arched eyebrows while she drew her lips into a sardonic smile. "I still think I wouldn't date you even if you were the last man on Earth. You stupid, judgmental, egoistic actor!"

I wouldn't say that I was touched by her words. In truth, they didn't even reach my heart. Her arrows, carefully designed and created with the sole purpose of hurting and destroying me had crumbled to dust on their way. Still, I couldn't leave what she said without having the last word. Her statement bruised my self-esteem.

She acted like she was better than me and she was looking down on me the same way she did years ago. I could say anything and she still wouldn't grasp the meaning of my words because she wasn't willing to accept how depraved she really was inside. But maybe, just maybe there was a way for her to admit how wrong she was.

"Then let's make a bet," I suggested, smiling arrogantly.

I knew she wouldn't refuse it. It flattered her vanity to think she could come out of this as the winner. Only then would the game really begin.

* * *

 **ELENA**

Every insult from Damon Salvatore's sculptured lips, crafted by a chiseled jaw and heart of steel was an individual dagger, dipped in poison, straight into my heart. Only one person could hurt me like that… He found my weakness and used it against me like a gun. He didn't let me move on. Every one of his movement evoked a deeply buried memory in me.

Including some of which he had not played any part in, which really did not have anything to do with him. The part of my past which he knew was only a step in a long and decadent downward spiral. He knew nothing, he couldn't. He had no idea why I did what I did then, and why I did it differently now.

"You know what?" I asked rhetorically as the urge to say it out loud began to burn. "I still think I wouldn't date you even if you were the last man on Earth. You stupid, judgmental, egoistic actor!"

It felt good to tell him that my opinion about him hadn't changed. What I've seen on TV was just a frosting for his gullible female fans. I wasn't saying he was from the worst kind of celebrities, but among the bad ones it didn't matter which position he was in the ranking list. I knew that world, and I had known someone like him once.

His kind didn't know the concept of humanity, they just rushed towards the stars and tossed everyone aside if that was the price. There wasn't anything they wouldn't sacrifice for their success. I was willing to bet that Damon Salvatore was no different.

"Then let's make a bet," he shrugged his shoulders casually. The words left his lips so smoothly, almost as if he was reading them from a script.

"What?" I feigned ignorance with a piercing look and instinctively took a step back, like it would protect me from what was about to come. Whatever it would be.

"You heard correctly," Damon nodded smugly and started explaining patiently. "If you are so sure that you would never fall in love with me, then here's my deal: you won't avoid me while I'm here in Italy and I won't ask about your past. We go out to a couple of places to get to know each other better, what the other is really like. And the one who first says 'I love you' to the other, loses."

I listened him bewildered, but made sure that he couldn't read any emotion from my face. I pulled on a cold mask. I had always been good at that. I only showed the part of myself that I wanted the world to see. Who would've thought, that something that once caused me my downfall…and someone else's, now saved me from a complete breakdown.

"But I just said I would never fall in love with you," I reminded him coolly.

How dumb was he? Hadn't I already said that he was at the very bottom of my list? Did he really think that with our views of each other, our shared history and damaged past that a bet and few 'dates' was suddenly going to make me fall in love with him?

"That's exactly what I said either. So let's find out who is right," he pierced me with a challenge in his eyes, so intense that and I had to look away from his gaze.

I watched the half columns and decorated towers of the nearby church. My gaze fell upon a statue behind the stone balustrade, which looked down in the form of an avenging angel on the people walking on the square.

So who was the bad and who was the good now? Every word of his proposal shone with disrespect. He knew exactly what he was offering.

A game, where we would both try to win the other with compliments, nice words, lies, seduction and other dirty things. He was talking about a game that would kill the real feelings and put the heart on a silver platter. I was sure about what I stated: I would never fall in love with him and he wasn't staying for long in the country anyway. Then what did I have to lose?

"And what are the stakes?" I asked, as my gaze slowly fell back to the handsome actor.

He looked pleasantly tanned from the days he had spent here, his hair was neatly combed, like always, and his eyes were calculating. "It doesn't really matter to me. Whatever you like," he shrugged his shoulders carelessly.

He was apparently quite sure with himself and his words told me he couldn't even imagine that he might lose. Not that I was afraid of that either. After all, I wasn't the one who had been in love with him a long time ago. That was my head start, and maybe he only needed a little push to bring those old, childlike feelings to the surface. Then it would all end and I could close this horrible chapter of my life once and for all.

"The winner can ask anything from the loser, who must comply with it even if they don't have the stomach to do it," I said, thinking through every spoken word. I already knew what my request would be.

"You don't need to win a bet to see me naked," he winked at me, grinning maliciously.

Damon had no idea what I really wanted. That was why he would lose: he didn't know me, he didn't even know who I was. I only wanted one thing: for him to leave me alone, go away and forget that I ever existed.

"If you go on like that, you will never win," I rolled my eyes and tried to squeeze as much disdain in my tone as possible.

But the grin on his face only widened. "Well, you can also try to be nicer."

I wanted to stamp my feet in anger at his words because I should be the one saying that to him. But I tried to regain my composure and only presented him with a sneer. This was the second to last time I would look at him like that. The last time would be when I announce to him what he has to do as the loser of this bet. Then I would never have to see him again.

"So… Do we have a deal?" Damon extended his right arm towards me with a raised eyebrow.

I glanced down at his hand from his challenging look. I remembered Father Leo and that I swore to live a good life. But if I agreed to this, I had to become like I had used to be in the past. I had to seduce him. For the time being, I had to go back to my old self, who had easily wrapped the members of the opposite sex around her little finger. But it wasn't final. I wouldn't be that bad of person again… Right?

"We have," I slipped my slightly sweaty hand into his warm one.

Damon seemed satisfied and a captivating smile appeared on his face again while he changed his tone into a lighter one. "Well then, Miss Gilbert, would you give me the honor of going to dinner with me?" he said politely.

It disgusted me how easily he took on his role. For him, it wouldn't be more than playing pretend. A dramatic play, in which I would fall into his arms anyway.

"With pleasure, Mr. Salvatore," I returned the gesture. I found it surprisingly easy to hide behind a different role. Horrible, but familiar. "Tomorrow night would be perfect. We'll meet in the hospital anyway. I'm looking forward to it, but if you'll excuse me, I have to go now," I flashed him a charming smile as I hailed a cab and got in the backseat.

I didn't even look back. I closed my eyes and let my temporary driver take me home. The image of the avenging angel haunted me all the way back to my apartment. It came for me: in the form of Damon. This was my battle, and I had to fight it.

Arriving at my apartment, the weariness knocked me off my feet, literally: leaning my back against the wall, I collapsed onto the cold floor.

"Rambo, I did something stupid," I scratched the ear of my dog, who happily jumped into my lap. My voice faded into a desperate whisper. "Something very, very stupid…"

* * *

 **A/N: Wow... Looks like Elena bit off more than she can chew with accepting Damon's bet. Or maybe Damon was too confident? You just have to stick around to find out. And remember to share your thoughts with me, I really enjoyed reading the reviews I got for the previous chapter! *sending love in your way***


	8. Are You Sure?

**A/N: Hey there my lovely readers! Thank you for your favs, alerts and reviews! I love all of them *hugs*  
I don't know if you have noticed, but there will be another A2A Delena Christmas Exchange this year! Yaay! So if you have a Delena Christmas one-shot idea, write a prompt on tvdmixing's LiveJournal (** **). But remember, if you have a prompt you must write someone else's. You know, it's better to give than receive :) I sure as hell will participate in this year too! :)**

 **Again, big BIG thanks to my beta, LeighJ11!**

 **Xo  
Niki**

* * *

 _"When you're dealing with an unknown the only sure commodity is uncertainty." -_ _Clive Cussler_

* * *

 **Chapter 7: Are You Sure?**

 **DAMON**

The blaring sun painted golden streaks across my blanket, officially waking me up. I was awake later than usual and still I had to wipe the drowsiness out of my eyes. My thoughts drifted to all that I had to do today and so I got up and started to get ready.

The shower was hot and heavy on my bare skin when I stepped inside, turning my body numb from the pleasure of it. While my body occupied, my mind was free to wander and it began to drift towards the bet I had made with Elena Gilbert. What kind of man had I become? To make childish bets and possibly hurt either, or both of us in the process.

Yes, we were aware of our self-loathing for each other and it seemed highly unlike that anyone of us, or both of us, would develop feelings for each other. But scathing words and nice dates didn't mix. What were we both going to turn into, in order to get through this bet? And was it even worth it?

My mind stayed on these questions as I exited the shower and dressed. I had quite a few phone calls to make and so while making them, I paced around my hotel room, catching my own reflection a hundred times. By the time my calls were done with, I found myself staring into the mirror, waiting for my own reflection to answer the questions inside.

After a few minutes, there was no answer and I knew it was because I was too biased. I wanted to hurt Elena, the way she had hurt me for years. She had crushed me when I wanted her so badly and she had treated me with no respect or human decency.

But the other part of me didn't want to hurt a woman, because it was the very woman in question who had taught me that being hurt, the way that I had been hurt, was wrong and I would never make someone else feel that way. I also thought about what she had said. It was plausible that she had changed. She was what? Twenty-four now? Twenty-five? Was I holding on to something I should have let go of a long time ago?

I shook my head at myself, and the mirror copied the movement. I needed someone to talk to, and I knew just the person. My coat and shoes were on before I consciously thought about going to see the only person who could gave me good advice. My baby bro: Stefan. By the time I made it to the hospital and his room, he was silently sat in his bed.

I tried to explain that I felt ashamed of the way I had acted towards her, a woman no less, but that while I believed the old wounds had healed, they seemed to be forever reminding me of the pain I had felt when I first received them; raw and fleshy. He nodded the whole way through, giving no indications to what he thought of this whole mess.

That was until I sighed and asked, "Have I been an idiot?"

Stefan pursed his lips for a moment before shaking his head slightly. "I don't think you can call this as being an idiot. Curious, maybe. Or if you seriously want to be melodramatic, then you can call it nastiness, but not stupidity," he replied honestly, looking me in the eyes.

Stefan was usually the considerate one in the family, but he was honest. He always thought before he acted and arranged sentences so that they weren't such a sharp blow, but he had never lied to me when I needed his advice. He wasn't a saint; he did make stupid decisions sometimes. Like the one that had landed his ass in this hospital.

As his big brother, I had always felt like I needed to be beside him, constantly, if I wanted to protect him to the best of my ability. But at the mere age of fourteen, he had proven and been explicitly clear that he didn't need my protection because he could handle himself just fine. He seemed to always be the best brother, the kindest, and the most honest.

I could even believe he was my big brother, and not the other way around. Stefan's motto had always been: What is life, without experiencing mistakes, and surviving them? I had never understood what he was trying to express or why he held on to the saying but recently I had realized that I was doing the same.

I didn't regret my past, be it good or bad. I had learnt to live with it and accept that it made me who I was today. So why was I making this bet with Elena? Why was I opening old wounds, dragging up the past and hurting not just myself, but possibly her too? That wasn't me and it wasn't the man I had become.

I voiced my concerns to Stefan. "This isn't right. I've never been one to play with women's feelings. Even if they… had made my life a living hell. I make them clear what I want before starting anything with them, if you know what I mean," I winked.

But my words about what Elena Gilbert had done to me when we were younger didn't feel true to me anymore. Even though they had happened, and I had experienced bad things from them, I couldn't bring myself to seduce her according to the bet. I was beginning to doubt my own motivations. Was it really revenge? Or did I want an excuse to be around Elena?

"I know you, Damon. But maybe it's time to put that side of you away. You said it yourself many times; you don't believe in coincidences. So here is what I think: Fate wanted you to take revenge on Marie… I mean Elena," he corrected.

I grimaced. "Revenge is such an ugly word."

Even as I said it, I caught Stefan's eyes and they shone with amusement and understanding. He didn't want me to get revenge on Elena. He knew I didn't want to get revenge on Elena.

I wondered if being an actor had finally gotten on my nerves when I offered this bet. But even as I thought it, I knew it wasn't true. Elena was the reason: her presence, her taunting words and my memories I had of her.

Stefan spoke up as I descended into my own motivations again, pulling me out of my own head. "Admit it, you're enjoying this. You know you can strike back, and you're the one who controls this game. You may not want to hurt Elena, but you do find her attractive. You want the opportunity to flirt but hate her at the same time. Maybe even had some hate sex and get it all out of your system." He playfully pushed at my arm while trying to get a confession out of me.

I couldn't help but smile as her stunned face came to my mind. A sense of satisfaction ran through me again and I nodded. "I think you just summed it up completely."

As if on cue, someone stepped into the room. From the uncertain clicking of her heels, I knew immediately that it wasn't the nurse in question. I turned towards the door and spied a short, slender woman. Her skin was light compared to Italians and a blush stained her cheeks.

Her blonde curls hugged her face, framing it with a glow. She looked young and infinitely sad despite her floral dress. It seemed she had gotten lost and found herself in Stefan's room, and not the one she had been initially searching for. Her eyes flickered over me and my brother before she cleared her throat, breaking the silence with a hurried. " _Scusi!"_

She rattled the apology off so fast that it took me a while to digest the Italian word. By the time I had, she had already fled.

"Who was she?" Stefan asked.

I looked back to him from where my eyes had been on the girl in the door frame. I immediately recognized the grin on his face; the one I had seen countless times when he spotted a girl he found attractive. I rolled my eyes at him. Only my baby brother would want to hook up with someone in a hospital.

"I have no idea," I paused, muttering under my breath. "But I hope she didn't recognize me,"

My brother was at the brink of laughing, but ultimately he didn't express his amusement. "The world doesn't revolve around you, Damon. You should have realize that already," he said with a forgiving smile.

But the anxious twinkle in his eyes told me that he understood why I didn't want anybody to know about me being here. "Anyway, we were talking about Elena and I think that she may have really changed. It has been a decade, Damon."

"Well, I think you're blinded by her appearance too, like I was a long time ago. Behind her pretty mask, she's still the same sneaky woman she once was," I said, quite sure of my words.

Stefan didn't respond and went back to staring at the wall. I looked around the room absently before my eyes fell upon his splinted leg. I swallowed hard. Dr. Pontrelli still couldn't tell me anything useful, only sprouting the same line: we just have to wait and see. But I'd had enough of waiting. I couldn't even imagine how Stefan was feeling.

"Would you do something for me?" He asked suddenly, snatching me from my thoughts and my eyes from his leg.

I immediately replied, without thinking. "Fire away, lil bro," I grinned soon after because from his smile alone I already knew what he would ask

"Please find out who she was," he said with wide, pleading eyes.

He looked like a puppy who wanted someone to take him for a walk. He pouted hard, acting as if I had ever said no to one of his favors. "I'll do my best." I nodded.

I stood up from my seat and prepared to leave. I warned my brother if he wouldn't rest despite the doctor's order, I would strap him to his bed myself.

He rolled his eyes and responded with "It's not like I can go anywhere."

I grinned, answering as I left the door way, "that's never stopped you before."

I heard him laughing as I made my way down the hospital corridor. In these moments, it felt like everything was going to be just fine and that nothing bad would ever happen to him. My brother was a good man, and the bad better avoid him. Otherwise that 'bad' would be forced to face me, and I'd do anything for my brother.

"Oh, I'm sorry," I apologized automatically.

I had accidently hit someone whilst aimlessly walking down the corridor, my thoughts wrapped up in Stefan and his leg. I had been planning to leave but had diverted to the nurse's station to get the name of, and the reason for her stay, Stefan's mystery girl, out of Caroline. I looked around to see who I had bumped into and it seemed that by chance it was Elena Gilbert.

She glanced up at me with long lashes sweeping her olive cheeks and it was quite captivating. I noticed she was taking an uncertain step backwards, as if she had saved herself from falling over when I bumped into her. This give my eyes the excuse to roam her body. Slim, long legs with a skirt that was modest but short enough to show case them.

I had to admit that she wasn't just an exceptional beauty at the age of fourteen but still was, if not more so. Her delicate features and graceful steps still entranced me and the fire in her eyes were born for a true siren. She knew exactly how to use her body to make men fall at her feet and I wondered if she was trying to do that to me right now.

If she was, she was most certainly winning. No, I scolded myself. I was no longer the little kid who loved a girl because of her appearances. Intrinsic values were more important to me now. She had no virtue, which meant that her chances of seducing me and making me feel what I once did were down to zero.

"So have you managed to make reservations to somewhere?" she broke the silence with a slightly irritated tone and folded arms.

Her expression was full of questions, and hope. Maybe she believed I would retreat from the bet that easily? Well this morning I might have and wanted to, but the sight of her brought forth her childhood offences. I couldn't let her win. This was my game. I was an actor, I could play pretend and I could pretend well enough to work my way inside her heart. If she had one at all…

"Yes. Eight o'clock at _Giardino's,_ " I drew my lips into a smile because I knew it would shatter her dreams into pieces.

"That's an elegant and expensive restaurant," she reminded me sharply, as if to criticize the choice I'd made.

I wasn't troubled by her words. "I can afford it," I replied confidently and carelessly.

Part of the reason I chose this restaurant was because I wanted to brag. So of course I figured my wallet would pay the price of it. But this bet, our little unfair game was worth it.

"The emphasis was on the word 'elegant'," Elena clarified and looked at me with narrowed eyes, continuing to be stubborn. There was something evil at the corner of her mouth as she returned my smile with one of her charming ones. One I hadn't seen in a very long time. "Will you be able to eat with a knife and fork?"

I almost laughed at her mocking words. But instead I kept playing my role, hoping to throw her off and take her arrogance down a notch. I reached forward slowly, dragging out the suspense before I touched her soft skin. She winced as my fingers caught hold of her chin and she immediately smacked my hands away.

I leaned threateningly close to her. "I'm more concerned for you, Elena. Will you be able to keep your clothes on until the end of the evening?" I whispered hotly, before turning and walking away.

There wasn't any visible change in my determined steps, but it was Damon Salvatore who walked away, leaving behind the character that would most likely win the unattainable Elena Gilbert for himself. Women like her always looked for straightforward and strong men to surrender themselves to them.

Not that I could offer myself in that way. I had offered that to _her_ once _,_ but she didn't want me. Therefore, I wouldn't try to get her to love me for myself. I had changed tactics, prepared for this fight. I had created a man that would be her downfall.

Elena Gilbert was going to be the first one to say "I love you." Only I could win this game.

* * *

 **ELENA**

I still shuddered at his touch. A bead of sweat ran down my spine like a cold breeze at the memory of his warm fingers. With my eyes closed, I lay in an almost agonized state on my small apartment's carpet with pictures spinning through my mind. I wanted to run, get far away from here and go somewhere, anywhere, where my past would seem to be nothing but a mirage.

I wanted to, but I wouldn't, because I couldn't let him win. I couldn't let a gloating grin creep on to his face when he would see me run away; from him, my past, my mistakes and the bet. Even with my determination to stay: pride and suffering struggled for dominance inside me.

Was it worth saving my dignity when every time I looked at him I came face to face with the worst years of my life? Was it worth obeying the rules of this stupid bet just to rub it in his face that I was a better person?

Yes! My mind suddenly shouted. He needed someone to teach him that women were not toys, and he could not just use them and then throw them away. He couldn't expect me to love him, could he? I hadn't loved anyone in years. If he thought that the uttered " _I love you's"_ I had said previously were lies, then maybe he was right. It was possible that I never really loved anyone, because I had thought that offering my heart to someone was a weakness.

But Matt was different…

Fortunately, the ringing tone of my phone rescued me from the man's face and I struggled to my feet. I had one hour to pull myself together until this stupid dinner with Damon. After all, a woman with puffy, red eyes from crying and an oversized t-shirt could hardly win this bet. I had to transform back to my old self, the one who had made Damon love her so long ago.

I planned to do that all over again, but this time, I didn't want to let him go until I heard those three words coming from his mouth.

In all these thoughts of the bet, it suddenly occurred to me that I hadn't been on a date in a long time. I didn't even know what to wear. But as I walked to my closet, I tried to evoke my teenage self.

That's when I noticed my least used, most provocative dress. I pulled it out, slipping into the black satin and lace fabric. The dress clung to my body like a second skin, stretching where it needed to and show casing as much of my figure as I would like. I went simply with my hair: pinning it up and did my make up with pale red lips and smoky eyes.

I fished in my jewelry box, trying to decide what to put with the dress as my phone rang and went silent for the second time. I ignored it and took out some silver bracelets, which clicked together as I slid them down my wrist. The noise roused Rambo who had been sleeping in his basket. No doubt he thought I was taking him for a walk.

He padded over to me and stared at me with large, expectant eyes. I tapped his nose softly and instead gave him some dog food while I called a cab. I fussed him after I had gathered my shoes, bag and coat and waited for my cab. It didn't take long and I was at the restaurant fifteen minutes later than our agreed time.

No unfortunate factor or traffic jam had held me back from being punctual. I had been late on purpose. I elegantly made Damon know that he didn't get to tell me when and where I should be. I wanted him understand that he didn't, and couldn't control me.

"Good evening!" I greeted the front of house employee. "I'm looking for the table reserved under the name Salvatore," I flashed a charming smile.

The man searched for the name on his computer before looking up with a shake of his head. "I apologize ma'am, but we do not have a reservation under that name."

I felt my throat close up and anger flashed hot over my skin. Had he just set me up? What kind of stupid joke was he playing on me? I knew the answer immediately: it was the same game I was playing with him. Trying to preserve the rest of my pride, I lifted my chin and prepared to leave, but someone stopped me.

"Going somewhere?" Damon asked, blocking my way.

He was dressed elegantly and had even donned a jacket and a tie. He had probably wasted hours on his hair too, as it looked the exact same as on every photo on the internet. I had to admit, he did look good. But this wasn't nearly enough to sweep me off of my feet.

"I thought you wouldn't come," I said quietly so only he could hear it while I never looked away from his eyes.

"I could say the same about you," he responded.

He had good reason to doubt me, but I wouldn't have admitted it to save my life. I turned my head away and glanced around the restaurant while Damon went to sort out our reservation. Did he think that because he was famous he would just get a table? I half listened as I took in the brilliant white and gold colors.

I'd never been here before and I wouldn't have ever imagined that I would be coming here with a celebrity. Speaking of, I turned to face Damon, wondering if I had misheard him say the reservation was for a Mr. Saltzman. Who on earth was Mr. Saltzman?

The employee nodded, apparently finding a reservation for that name. "May I escort you, and your date, to your table, Mr. Saltzman?" He asked politely.

The employee, from his wide eyes and pink cheeks, clearly knew who Damon was and seemed to be very eager to escort us to our table. He also seemed to understand why Damon had used an alias. I understood but I was surprised. Surely using his real name would have gotten him a lot of freebies, and luxuries.

"No, thank you. We will find our way," Damon replied and nodded politely.

He then fixed his ocean blue eyes on me and offered his hand. "Are you sure you want to do this?"

I knew he didn't only mean for dinner, but the entire bet. He was looking at me defiantly, as if he was waiting for me to backtrack. But instead, I forced a mischievous smile onto my face while I accepted his outstretched hand. Although I tried to touch as little as possible.

"I'm sure," I nodded and we started heading towards our table.

An interesting evening awaited us, I was certain of that.

* * *

 **A/N: Ok I was mean again, leaving the chapter before the fun part. But I promise I will make it up to you! Leave me a review if your read it :)**

 **Until next time!**

 **Niki**


	9. Fair Game

**A/N: Hello there! Here's the next chapter with the continuation of the dinner date. I don't know when I will be able to write and update the next chapter because my exams are starting next week and I still have a ton to study *ugh*. So wish me luck next week and make me happy with some reviews :3**

 **Hope you like and enjoy this chapter!**

* * *

 _"Good loses. Good always loses because good has to play fair. Evil doesn't." - Once Upon A Time_

* * *

 **Chapter 8: Fair Game**

 **DAMON**

"I'm sure," Elena replied with, what I grudgingly had to admit, was a charming smile.

She seemed to unconsciously tuck loose locks of hair behind her ears every few seconds, which suggested she was nervous. Good. I led her to our pre-booked table with a satisfied smirk adorning my mouth. The restaurant was packed with the varying sounds of slow Italian music and pleasant chit-chat. Or at least, that's what I thought it was. The language barrier didn't help.

Despite my comfort in making Elena somewhat nervous and jumpy with my calm demeanor, I was itchy as hell in my suit and beyond uncomfortable. It was the same every time I was forced to wear elegant clothing. That train of thought left me wondering about how uncomfortable I felt when on the red carpet and being blinded by thousands of camera flashes.

However, it was expected of an actor and I knew I should be grateful because I was extremely lucky to get to do a job I truly enjoyed. I remember that at the very start of my career, I had everything. I had never given much thought to being an actor and only fell in to it after meeting Alaric.

I had been with a small group of friends at our local bar and we'd been fooling around, making a parody of our teacher. Alaric had been in there and watched the whole thing. Shortly after he had approached me, informing me that he believed I had a great talent for acting and wanting to become my manager, as soon as possible.

For the longest time I had been reluctant. I didn't want to become a 'star' and I didn't relish the thought of walking down the street and being recognized. It may sound like I was flattering myself but after our initial meeting I had done research on Alaric and he had been manager, and still was, to some very famous people.

In the end I gave it a go, figuring I had nothing to lose. At first it was just a handful of castings, nothing major, and I hadn't really enjoyed the stress of trying to learn, and remember lines. Being attractive was also a big plus when it came to casting and it annoyed me that I was being eyed like a piece of meat 99% of the time, rather than being judged for my talents.

However, as time went on, I found myself enjoying it and getting the hang of my lines. It mostly had to do with the fact that Alaric paired me with different producers that he had previously dealt with, and they had been looking for real, honest talent and judging someone on that, and not their appearance.

When my attitude changed towards auditioning and the whole acting life style, more casting roles kept coming in, and it wasn't long until I got my first movie role which had also been the main lead. My fame arrived overnight. I never thought it would be that quick, but between night and day, everyone knew my name. I was surprised, and humbled which is why I continued to be down to earth and thankful despite my growing popularity.

"So are we gonna stand here all night, or can we actually sit down?" Elena's snarky voice pulled me away from my thoughts.

My hands were still resting on the back of the chair that I had been planning to pull out for her, but it seemed as if I had gotten stuck in the movement, and in my own head. When I did look up at her, she was looking rather pissed.

"Of course." I nodded, pulling out the chair.

I wasn't too bothered that I had let myself get carried away in my own thoughts because it would hopefully trick Elena into believing that it was just as easy to forget she was there, as if I wasn't too bothered by her appearance, or proximity. I knew this would unnerve her, which made me feel great.

Although, I had to admit that she looked stunning tonight. Even knowing what she was like inside couldn't stop me from mentally drooling at her exterior. Once Elena had settled into her chair, she began to slip out of her bolero. Ever the gentleman, I automatically reached out to take it from her, only to accidently sweep my fingers across her shoulder.

Instantly she flinched and pulled away from me, bowing her body into the table and away from her chair. I tried to repress the scowl that wanted to sit on my lips at her clear implication that she found the thought of me touching her repulsive. I shook off the annoyance and sat down opposite her, gesturing to the waiter for a menu.

"May I recommend you a drink? The _2005 Morellino di Scansano_ is especially tasty with poultries," said the employee with a heavy accent as he placed the menus before us.

I glanced at Elena, but she didn't respond to the man's suggestion. She was too engrossed with studying the menu. I wondered, with an invisible smile, whether she was looking for the most expensive offerings of the restaurant just to try and tick me off. I thought back to her flinching at my touch again and realized that she was slowly winning by bothering me. I couldn't have it.

"Thank you. I think that will be fine," I nodded and looked at Elena, noticing a faint smile appearing on her face.

I was curious as to what she had found that was so amusing. The waiter left us to prepare our wine, which gave both me and Elena ample time to decide what we were going to order. I tried to look through the menu but my eyes continued to drift over to the woman opposite me, engrossed in her own menu.

Her pinned-up hair presented to me the delicate curve of her neck, and the cut of her dress gave me a teasing insight to her cleavage. I tried not to be too conspicuous as I looked, knowing that if she caught me she would feel like she was winning this little game, but I was a man after all. She was stunning, no doubt about it.

I was no longer dazed by her exterior like I had been when I was younger, I told myself for the thousandth time since I had arrived to Italy, but I was failing to convince myself.

"So…What caused this famous turn-around?" I inquired softly, never taking my eyes off of Elena.

She froze at my words and stared vacantly at the table before her. When she lifted her eyes, she graced me with a hard, cold look. "You said you wouldn't ask about my past," she reminded me and slightly pursed her lips.

I sighed and spread my arms out in a gesture. "But then how do we get to know each other?" I asked rhetorically.

I was trying to wind her up, of course, but I had to admit, if even just to myself, that I was curious about her life here. I was especially interested in what she thought about during the years we spent in school together. But as curious as I was, I doubted she would be willing to tell me about it… for now.

But in the meantime, I would settle for anything else. I'd never had this opportunity to talk to her one-on-one in an in-depth conversation and I was eager to be on equal ground with her during our conversation.

"What do you want to know?" she asked with one eyebrow raised. She squared her shoulders and leaned forward.

Everything faded away around me and I had only eyes for her beautiful face. "Anything. Tell me something about yourself," I shrugged my shoulders.

With a satisfied smile, I noted that we could maintain a normal, human conversation without her looking at me with hatred, talking to me with contempt and viewing me as an empty-headed celebrity. Just as Elena opened her mouth to reply, the waiter had come back to our table and instantly began pouring our chosen wine.

"Do you know what you would like to order?" He inquired after he had finished his task.

I asked for the chef's choice, not knowing what the dish would be but knowing it would be a good one. Elena glanced at me for a long moment, as if she couldn't decide whether I was being serious or not, before she smoothed her expression and turned to the waiter with a large smile. She ordered a fried camembert with cranberry sauce as her main course.

The waiter was about to leave before she softly lay her hand upon his wrist, stopping him. He looked back to her with a nervous smile, seemingly overwhelmed by a beautiful woman touching him. Elena proceeded to enquire about his opinions for a dessert while looking out the corner of her eye at me. It was clear she was trying to make me jealous, but she was failing.

"I'd decided to become a doctor a year before graduation. I gave up becoming an actress after elementary school," she said when we were alone again.

At first, I didn't understand where this was coming from, but then I realized she was just complying with my previous request and talking about herself.

"Funny, I'd already applied to medical school when I got my first film role," I countered, but I had no intention to mock her, I was just stating the facts. "Why did you choose this profession?" I asked, curious.

It had never occurred to me for a second when we were younger that she would ever become a doctor. She wasn't the kind of person, or at least I had thought, that was interested in biology, or saving lives at all

"Private life matters pushed me to make this decision," she answered diplomatically, but no matter how hard she tried to stay light, it seemed she didn't like what turn our conversation had taken. She quickly changed topics. "How's your family? If I recall correctly, you have a sister too. She was one or two class above us, I think."

I was surprised that she brought this topic up. I had never given any thought to her family or background as I had always pegged her as an only child who had been spoiled. It seemed odd that she had given any thought to mine.

"So you remembered my sister but not me. I'm hurt," I placed my hand above my heart and pretended to be offended. A smile tugged at the corner of her lips, but I couldn't decide if it was fake or not. "They are fine. All of them, thank you. Rose became a successful real estate agent, and our parents are traveling the world. And Stefan… You spoke to him, you know how he is…" I swallowed and reached for my glass to drink a few sips of this supposedly excellent wine.

My throat tightened as I remembered my brother lying in his hospital bed. I found out that his mystery girl's name was Rebekah Mikaelson and she was visiting her grandfather, who was lying in the adjacent ward. Caroline, or as I liked to call her: Blondie, was certainly helpful when it came to my two pretty eyes.

Elena wasn't nearly as cooperative during the night. We were managing to bond. And by bonding I mean we maintained a shallow small talk about family, dreams and jobs while eating our appetizers and soups. But at least I had confirmed that she really was an only child and that she had left her parents on the American continent, claiming that she had never felt close to them.

I considered her ungrateful, based on what she said, because I couldn't imagine not visiting home at least once a month on weekends. My family meant everything to me, and it was little pieces of my parents and Stefan, and Rose, that made me the man I was today.

"Rabbit meat with sweet and sour sauce, enriched with dark chocolate," slid the arriving waiter as he presented my ordered main course before me on a large plate. My eyes went wide as I looked down on the appetizingly decorated, but still somewhat strange food.

I puckered up my lips and asked myself whether it would have been wiser if I had paid attention to what I was ordering instead of Elena. I rejected even the thought that my inattention would mean she still had effect on me. No, that was impossible.

* * *

 **ELENA**

Try as I might, I couldn't repress my smile, when I saw the expression on Damon's face at the arrival of his order. This momentary inner gloating made me forget who I was currently dining with, and that a few minutes ago he had been trying to dig into my past, presumably to throw me off balance and one up me.

I had talked about my family briefly, and had even divulged details that I hadn't been intending to, and probably shouldn't have. I had specifically paid attention to what I said when it came to any advantages he could use during out bet. On the other hand, I had revealed some of my weaknesses which had most likely led him to believe that I would fall for him quite easily.

He could believe that all he wanted, he would always be entangled in my web before that happened. Throughout the night I was aware, although I didn't particularly want to be, that what I was doing was unfair, and immoral: playing with someone's heart. Even if I did it metaphorically, it was still bad.

Despite my worries, I knew that this particular game couldn't be won fairly and so I had to keep my eye on the prize and my head in the game in order to achieve my goal. I wanted to show Mr. Perfect that he was just as fragile as he had been when he was younger, and susceptible to my whims just as he had been back then.

Perhaps, unfairly, I wanted to take revenge on him for what had happened in the past, despite the fact that it was me who had tormented him for years. But we were both victims, in different times and with different people, and so I suppose I was using Damon as an outlet for my pain as he was using me as an outlet for his.

Taking another sip of wine, I moistened my throat that parched during our conversation. We spent a while in silence as we ate our main courses and it wasn't until sometime later that I finally placed down my knife and fork after finishing my meal. I leaned back in my seat, turning my head to the side to watch the live band performance.

The musicians were playing a slow, somewhat melancholic love song. The atmosphere of the restaurant was indeed suitable for a date, nearly fooling me into thinking I was on a real one. But I knew that was an absurd thought, given the circumstances.

"Would you like to dance?" Damon suggested unexpectedly in an inviting tone.

As I turned back towards him, my lips stretched into an automatic smile that I couldn't resist, simply because I imagined him dancing…with me. Years ago it would have been impossible, due to my position at the top of the hierarchy in school. Only exceptional people could have danced with me. And he wasn't one of them.

In the current situation, he was the notorious actor, who didn't offer this possibility to anyone, and therefore, many people would kill for it. It seemed our roles had reversed, which wouldn't work if I was to seduce him into saying "I love you," first. He hated my personality and so instead, I would have to make him love my body.

"Let's go." I nodded and flashed him a lovely smile as I stood up from my seat.

Damon looked surprised that he had managed to talk me into it so easily. But he soon got over his shock and extended his hand towards me. I reached for it slowly, still guarded. His fingers were soft, only his palm was slightly rough, as if he had done some hard physical work. I could only think of weight training…unless using too much hair gel could do that to you.

The dance floor was almost empty; therefore, we went straight to the middle. When we were settled into our positions, he pulled me closer. I was immediately hit by the smell of his cologne that was undoubtedly pleasant. I felt a surreal urge to rest my head on his shoulder, like they did in the movies.

But I held myself back and let my dance partner to gently sway me back and forth to the music. It was good to leave the control to someone else this time, even if it was just a little thing like dancing. But I felt vulnerable all the while, and didn't give myself over to him unconditionally.

"You have always loved to tell others what to do, haven't you?" he challenged me.

His breath tickled my ear while I looked into the distance over his shoulder, next to his head. I thanked the stars that he couldn't see the tears pooling in my eyes at his simple question. Because I remembered the person who had asked almost the same. But Damon wasn't Matt, I reminded myself.

"What should I do if people are in need of a strong character?" I cleared my throat and tried to seem light, sort of the 'Elena' he once knew.

"Sometimes you really need them. I wouldn't be here without you," Damon said honestly and I felt the lump in my throat again. "If you hadn't made fun of me, I wouldn't have started running and training, so now I wouldn't look like this."

He was definitely right about that, I had to admit. However, I was neither proud, nor pleased with that fact. I did bad things. Just because good things came out of them, it was still no excuse to do them. And Damon didn't seem to resent me when it came to the benefits of my bullying, but it was palpable that he hadn't gotten over the past. Just as I hadn't either. No one could really escape from their past, even if you forget it, it remembers you.

"You know, you shouldn't declare so openly that you know how good-looking you are," I responded.

I knew in my heart that he didn't mean what he said in that way, but it felt a little good to mock him as he'd done with me.

"So you admit it then?" he asked, as if almost laughing at the fact that we were actually talking about that.

I pulled away from Damon and started heading back to our table. But clearly, he hadn't expected such an intense reaction from me and was still holding my arm. I moved so unluckily, that by the time he had released me, I lost control over my sense of balance and my ankle buckled in my high heels. I would have certainly fallen over if Damon hadn't caught me.

He took me in his arms at an amazing speed and saved me from completely embarrassing myself. He held me at my waist with such ease, as if my weight was nothing. He looked down at me with worried, ocean blue eyes.

"I got you," he whispered.

Our faces were so close, that our breath mingled together. I could taste the intoxicated aroma of wine in the air, and I warned myself that next time, I shouldn't drink this much because it could easily go to my head.

"Thank you," I breathed weakly, but honestly, and unwrapped myself from his arms after I could stand on my own legs.

After the dinner part of our date, Damon offered to take me home. I protested at first, because I didn't want him to know where I lived, but then I realized I had nothing to fear. He didn't want anything from me, and when I had him wrapped around my little finger, he would love me with such devotion that he would never abuse this information.

So I let him drive me home in his flashy car, then accompany me to my apartment. The ride passed quietly and neither of us said a lot since my tripping at the end of our dance.

"So, here we are," I opened my front door after I fumbled with the old lock.

As I stepped over the threshold, Rambo immediately attacked my leg playfully, and I scratched his head. When he noticed the stranger, surprisingly he didn't start barking. He walked to Damon's leg and started licking the presumably expensive trousers. It made smile that he was ruining his clothes, but Damon wasn't bothered by my dog.

"Hey, buddy. How's it going?" he addressed the animal while he crouched down and began stroking him.

He managed to stun me with that, because I didn't expect him to be this genial. And what was more, I wouldn't have pegged him for an animal-lover. Not every guy would act this natural with a puppy.

"His name is Rambo, and if I want him to, he'll bite your hand off," I flashed him a 'lovely' smile.

"Well, let's hope it won't come down to that," he said while he straightened and looked at me from the door mat.

I stood at the doorway, purposefully blocking his way. If he ever thought that I would let him in, he was delusional. "I'm not going to invite you in," I warned him, banishing his vain hopes.

He didn't seem phased at all by my words. "I didn't expect you to. It's late. I should go," he said and took a step back.

He turned his head towards the stairway and he was really prepared to leave. When he already took his first step, I couldn't stop myself from calling after him.

"Damon…" I waited until he turned back and lifted his sparkling eyes at me with interest. Uneasily, I whispered my confession. "Thank you for tonight. I had a good time…"

 _With you_. I finished in my head, but it still sounded unbelievable. In truth, the whole 'date' was absurd, yet I felt good inside. I got to finally get out and feel attractive, and it was pleasant.

"Don't, Elena…You don't have to lie to win this bet," he shook his head with a grimace, and with light footsteps, he walked down the stairs.

I just stared after him but didn't say anything.

Partly it disturbed me that he thought I was lying. But on the other hand, there was something in what he said…something that made me believe that it wasn't only me who felt the sparks when we were in each other's arms. I wanted to deny it, of course.

After all, he was just a spoiled celebrity and he wasn't capable of loving unconditionally. So I had to strike the iron while it was hot. But wasn't that the most unfair of it all?

* * *

 **Aww Damon and Rambo bonding. I already made a nickname for them - Dambo (it sounds like Dumbo, though)**  
 **So one date down, how many to go? Who would fall in love first, and who would win this game? Thoughts? :)**

 **Love,**  
 **Niki**


	10. Out Of Hell Up To Light

**A/N: Hey there! I'm so sorry for the late update, but I have so much to study for finals that I barely have time for anything else. But fortunately, I managed to write the next chapter and I hope you'll enjoy it! :)  
**

 **Slowly, we are halfway through the story; who would have thought? But there is still much left to tell and we will see how Stefan's condition would turn out and what other dates will Damon and Elena have.  
I want to give a big THANK YOU for those who left a review and of course, for everyone who is reading my story!**

 **Big thanks to my beta, LeighJ11 for correcting it!**

 **Enjoy :)**

* * *

 _"Long is the way and hard, that out of Hell leads up to light."― John Milton, Paradise Lost_

* * *

 **Chapter 9: Out Of Hell Up To Light**

 **DAMON**

They had found me. I had no idea how or why, but in the end it didn't really matter. It was a minor detail. The fact of the matter was: by Tuesday morning, bags upon bags had gotten to me, each of them bursting with letters about my brother, their sympathies for him and me, and me in general. Some people weren't so interested in either of us, and just asked about Italy.

The most annoying part was that I was under a fake name in the hotel, which meant that the letters had gone to my agent, a.k.a Ric, and he had gotten so annoyed by them all that he'd forwarded them to me. Bastard. I discarded most of it, which sounded cruel but I simply didn't have the time to read them all, and I would never be able to reply.

As my next visit with Stefan came around, I joked that more people cared about him than me, or the movie, which put a smile on his face for about five seconds before it slid off and was replaced by his usual brooding expression. "What's wrong?" I demanded, assuming the worst.

I sat quickly in the chair next to his hospital bed with my heart beating wildly. Had they told him something about his condition that they hadn't told me? Was he getting worse? Would he be paralyzed? Stefan lifted his eyes to me and I noticed with dread that they were glazed, as if he had received really terrible news.

My gut tightened, making me feel pig-sick. I felt like shaking his shoulders to get him to tell me what the hell was going on before I lost my mind but for some reason I sat stiff as a bored, too scared to talk or move and burst this bubble of ignorance settling around me. God, it was really bad wasn't it?

Stefan finally began to talk, his voice hoarse. "The doctor said that my leg won't recover itself; it can't."

"But there must be something…" I began, mortified at the choked up ball at the base of my throat.

"There is. He said a cartilage repair might help, and that we would consult about it later," Stefan answered. Considering it was an option, he seemed resigned.

"This is good, isn't?" I asked, in case there was something I still didn't know.

"It is…" he replied dejectedly.

"Jesus, Stef. You're giving me whiplash. Your words are positive but your voice is dull. What am I missing here?"

My words were laced with sarcasm, always my default mechanism at dealing with anything in my life, but as I watched the worry lines bury deeper into his young face, my heart broke. I wished I could do something, absolutely anything that could make him better, or just feel better. But I knew there would be nothing short of him being on two feet again.

"Damon, do you remember the girl whose name you found out?" He evaded my question and simultaneously changed the subject with a hopeful smile on his face.

Perhaps I had been wrong. "Yes…" I drawled, smirking now.

Part of me was annoyed at him. He should be worried about his condition, debating over the option he had been giving over the doctor, not chasing after some Italian girl. But a part of me didn't want him to worry himself sick and instead see him pink the cheeks from complimenting a beautiful woman and smile with flirtation.

Later would come, and in that later he would have to seriously consider the possibly that his condition would never change and that instead, his whole life would. The possibility that he would never recover and he would have to be paralyzed, contained in a wheelchair and dependent on someone else to live.

"What do you think? Could you talk her into visiting me, just for a minute?" Stefan asked quickly, his cheeks immediately turning pink with his large grin.

His eyes took on another faraway look, although this time he looked happier in his thoughts that I had no access to. Perhaps he was simply imagining his wishes coming true: Rebekah stepping into his room and here just to visit him

"It'll be as easy as a pie," I winked and stood up from the chair.

A smirk continued to pull on my lips even as I went to find my reliable informant. Before I managed to get out of the door, however, I turned back to Stefan. He had already grabbed a half-read book from his nightstand and had begun to read it. "Hey, don't get used to the idea that I'll always play matchmaker for you."

"You don't have to play matchmaker forever. Once you get her here, she won't ever want to leave," he responded arrogantly, his more youthful side making an appearance.

I rolled my eyes and pointed at his leg. "Don't take too much advantage of the situation."

He then rolled his eyes back at me and prepared to throw a pillow at me, but I managed to slip out the door just in time. The hospital corridor was deserted as I walked down it and the silence settled on me with a heavy force. The oppressiveness disturbed me, because I couldn't hear any medical equipment or even the sound of buzzing lights.

The silence gave me time to think about what Stefan had told me and the weight of it had me collapsing into a nearby plastic chair at the side of the corridor. I buried my face in my hands, praying in my head to any God or all Gods that existed that my baby brother would be okay, and that he wouldn't be crippled for the rest of his life.

There was no response to my inner pleas and when I moved my hands from my face, the opposite wall answered me with more silence. I looked towards the open ward, picturing Stefan becoming agitated in his hospital bed. He was just twenty-year-old; young and full of life. He would always be my little brother, always mine to protect and yet here he was.

As his big brother I felt responsible, and most especially I felt responsible for his happiness. It was my job to ensure he lived his life, my job to make sure it was fun and reckless but always contained and always fixable. I couldn't fix this. I couldn't make his legs work again, and I couldn't prevent the possibility that he would be in a wheelchair for the rest of his life.

"Damon?"

My head shot up from where it had fallen back into my hands. I realized that my gaze was blurry and quickly blinked back the moisture in my eyes. As my vision cleared I found that it was her, standing the exact way she had when I first crossed the threshold of the hospital. Her stance was professional and her eyes gleamed with secrets; ones I didn't have the strength to decipher.

I ignored her, hanging my head and staring at the floor, but she snatched my attention back by saying, "I heard about Stefan."

Elena carefully tucked her skirt underneath herself and sat down beside me on a similar plastic chair to my own. Her perfume and mere proximity caused a queer tingling within me. Something had changed with us. During our dance, something had stirred within me and for the moment, I had forgotten our shared past.

How pitifully weak of me, to already have felt as if we were the only two in the room, just on the first date. My momentary weakness had scared me, and still did because it put the winning cards in her hands. My heart, in her hands to play with. Again. It couldn't be like that. I couldn't let that happen and right now, I wasn't interested. Stefan was more important.

"Everything is going to be okay," Elena whispered as she slipped one of her delicate hands into mine that had been previously resting on my thigh.

Her voice was worried, her touch gentle and the intimacy of the gesture made my pulse speed up. I tried to ignore how soft her hand was, but suddenly, I felt myself that idiotic, easily manipulated fourteen-year-old boy again. My temper started to rise. The fact that she was using Stefan's accident, something serious and important, to win the bet was disgusting.

Because I could open my mouth and let rip my feelings, however, her buzzer began to ring, vibrating along the corridor. Elena slowly pulled away from me, without a goodbye and vanished around the corner of the hallway. I looked after her with a ball of tightness in my throat and dozens of questions swirled in my head.

Was she telling the truth? Did she really feel sympathy for me, and Stefan? Feel for me? Or was she lying? Was she using my brother just to win this bet? How would she feel if she did? And If I succeed in making her fall in love with me, winning the bet, then what would I feel? Would I feel guilt, or satisfaction? But the answers didn't come. I just stared… stared after her, wistfully.

I snatched up my head at the sound of a door opening and saw the girl who stepped out of ward 013. Her troubled gaze fell upon me and we glared at one another for a while. Then I pulled myself together and got up from my seat.

" _Ciao!"_ I waved at Rebekah tardily, who looked up at me with wide eyes. "I'm sorry. I don't speak Italian…"

"No problem. I know English…a little," she replied with an easy segmentation.

"Well then…I don't know if you remember my little brother the day before when you accidentally entered his ward, but…" I took a deep breath, then finished my sentence uncertainly, with a pleading look. "I need a huge favor."

* * *

 **ELENA**

Leaning on my elbows, almost half asleep, I filled out a patient's chart in privacy in the nurses' room. I'd had enough paperwork to keep my busy for a lifetime, but I still couldn't banish Damon Salvatore from my thoughts. Since the night of the date, he haunted my consciousness all day and all night. It didn't help that I haven't heard from him in days.

After our run in, in the hallway, it was as if he had disappeared into thin air. But this act of his didn't inflict sadness in me, because I saw his face enough in the local papers, which rejoiced at him being here. I was rather suspicious. I couldn't stop thinking about the possibility that he was planning something…something I wouldn't like.

An annoyed sigh escaped my lips as I reminisced about the worried brother. He was entirely different then. So _human_ … as before. I didn't see the celebrity in him, who I despised. I felt sorry for him because of his brother. I could see he was suffering and needed someone to support him. In that moment, I felt that I could be that someone.

But before I could go over the top, duty called and since then, I haven't run into him. Stefan's chances were already brighter: they fixed a date for his cartilage surgery and they called a specialist all the way from Rome, so that he could be in the best possible hands. There was nothing to worry about. Damon could breathe a sigh of relief.

I shook my head as I arranged the papers in my hands, and with a big élan, I rushed out of the room. I hurried to the nurse's station to put the now completed files next to the others in the key cabinet.

"Hey, Miss Whirlwind!" Damon laughed after jumping back from the door's way to avoid an unpleasant encounter.

He eyed me up and down with a carefree grin while I forced a faint smile on my face and returned his greetings. Almost a week had passed since our "date", and I was sure he had invented another plan full of seduction.

"When do you finish here?" Damon asked, leaning against the baby blue painted wall.

I raised my eyebrows, but I glanced at my watch on my left wrist without a word. "In half an hour. Why?" I lifted my chin up in curiosity. I crossed my arms in front of my chest and pressed the papers against my body, waiting for his answer.

"Good. We're going to hike. I've already spoken with a guide. He's expecting us at three," he announced with a grin and I was about to protest at his words, when he silenced me with a wave. "A-ah, no arguing. I'll be waiting for you in the parking lot at a quarter to three."

Amidst a deep sigh, I gave up my initial ideas of sleeping after a double shift in the hospital, and changed my plans to get a coffee instead…or two.

When he turned to walk away, satisfied, I called after him. "You really do want to win this bet, don't you?"

"And you should really step up your game, because I'm starting to get bored," the broad smile was still present on his face as he glanced back over his shoulder.

He put his sunglasses in place and walked down the hospital corridor as if it was a catwalk. I was shocked to find that if anyone can be sexy from simply behind, then that was Damon Salvatore. The whole encounter left me feeling weird because the Damon I had just conversed with, was a completely different Damon to the one I met in the corridor a few days ago.

* * *

Despite my past and queen like status, I've never been a hysterical, squeamish girl who had already started whining when a speck of dust got on her little knees. However, I wasn't accustomed to back-breaking hiking. But I tried to turn the situation in my favor. Thanks to Caroline, I knew for sure that the actor was familiar with this, therefore I had to use a weapon which he didn't have: my old self.

After we made a detour to my apartment, I put on frayed denim shorts with a comfortable strapped top and grabbed my sport shoes. My hair was tied up in a braid. As it turned out, the latter was unnecessary, because due to the mandatory helmet for safety reasons, I had to untie my hair.

The almost-bald tour guide enthusiastically explained the rules of the climbing tour, then handed out our equipment. Although, I haven't had a harness on me in a long time, I could've put it on myself on my own. But why make the effort when there was a helpful man close to me, who was just waiting for when he could be at my service?

"Damon, can you help me?" I dangled the technical equipment in front an already dressed-up Damon.

He willingly came up to me and took it from my hands. "I'll hold it out for you, you just have to step into those two circles, okay?" he gave me the instructions, while bowing slightly at the waist to hold the equipment before me.

Feigning that I was suddenly enlightened, I nodded. Unabashedly, I rested my hands on his shoulders to keep my balance, and with graceful moves I slid my feet in the right places. The harness rested on my thighs, the metal carabiners occasionally hit my knees, but I ignored it. There was barely any space between Damon and me now.

I could see the astonishment in Mr. Perfect's eyes while he straightened and pulled the equipment up to my waist. His palms unconsciously stuck to my hips, and the fact that our faces were a few inches apart raised the game to a higher level.

"Can we start?" The moment was broken by the voice of our hired guide, then he began to tell us the greatness of Via Ferrata.

"Just a moment," I pulled away from Damon. I adjusted the harness myself into place and tightened the straps just enough to avoid it from falling off me.

Not five minutes had passed and we were already deep into the woods. Following the silent bald guy, we had reached the gorge, where exciting things would happen: rock climbing. Fortunately, the steel cable which ran along the route, provided a sufficient security for hikers.

While balancing ourselves a few meters above the ground – secured to the cable – one cliff to another, we talked about uninteresting, everyday topics just like weather or our favorite places in the world. Time flew, and little by little, I'd forgotten why I was there. I put away the "provocative Elena" for a while and didn't put on a show.

The bet hadn't even come to my mind. And the most astonishing thing was that I never once judged my old acquaintance during this time.

"How long are you staying?" The question slipped out of my lips while I stepped up on a rock. With my free hand, I secured the carabiner in the next metal clasp. The water softly gurgled in the rushing creek below us.

"Why? Are you afraid that I'll just take off?" he asked back.

I could tell from his voice that he was smirking. I didn't use ay effort to look back and confirm my suspicion. "No," I wasn't afraid of that at all, and I had no reason to lie. "I just wanted to show you a thing or two in the area."

My words hung in the air for some time while I held my breath. I was surprised at myself. I hadn't planned this move in advance, like I usually did. It made me angry that I made such an offer in one of my weak moments. Yet I had to admit that the idea of showing the most beautiful side of Verona to the Hollywood loving celebrity would be satisfying.

Damon presumably didn't know what to say to that from his following silence. We were quite a few meters away when he spoke again, this time with a cautious and slightly suspicious tone. "It wouldn't be so bad to get to know this city a bit better," he noted.

My lips pulled into a sly smile. I took the lead for the first time since we made this bet and he got along with it. We both knew what it meant: he wasn't the only one who had the control. "But only if we survive this trip," I tried to make it a joke and looked back to see as his Adam's apple was dancing from his laughter.

His raven black hair was sticking out under the helmet on his head and even he looked ridiculous in it. I could only hope that I looked a notch better than him. "Hey, watch out!" He shouted suddenly and in that moment, the ground slipped from underneath my feet... literally

Inadvertently, I'd stepped to a place where I couldn't hook my leg properly. I could already feel the tug of the taut rope and carabiner at my waist, when Damon reached after me. I accepted his hand without thinking, and let him yank me back to himself, to safety, from the nothingness under my feet.

"Thank you," I muttered, looking into his blue eyes.

It wasn't the first time that I had turned to him with gratitude, and it wasn't the first time that it was because of stumbling. I secretly cursed myself. When did I became so clumsy? "Let's go on," I offered, shooing away my embarrassment when I spotted the tour leader waving at us impatiently from the corner of my eye.

As it turned out, he did it so we could see the waterfall in all its glory before it got dark. The bronze sun rays shining through the leaves of the forest trees painted the trickling water into liquid gemstones. It was an amazing sight, but it couldn't make me forget what happened just now.

I tried to scrape his touch away from my wrist, but I felt the trace of his hand for a long time. Failing to get rid of it wasn't the most annoying thing, but the fact that I wasn't even sure which one of us made the other more insecure.

"Ah, signal! Finally!" Damon exclaimed enthusiastically when we were slipping out of our equipment in the parking lot after our not too long, but exhausting trip.

"You want to reply to fan mails or what?" I mocked the actor, who ignored me and had already dialed a number.

"I asked the Doc to inform me if there was something with Stefan. He called me half an hour ago," he told me, while pacing up and down the asphalt.

Seeing the worried expression on his face, I remembered our meeting from Monday. I said nothing and instead, I leaned against the Camaro and waited for Damon to hang up the phone with crossed arms. It soon happened, and he replaced his all-day carefree face with a horrified one that scared me too.

"What happened?" I furrowed my brows and dropped my arms to my side. I listened to his reply breathlessly.

"Stefan is missing."

* * *

 **Cliffhanger! Sorry, I just had to. Thank you for reading and leave a review please :)**

 **Love,**

 **Niki**


	11. Little Bliss

**A/N: Hey there! I'm so sorry for the wait! I had so much to do between the Holidays and I still have one big exam that I have to pass. I could barely afford to have some free time, but I now I'm back with the next chapter, which (hopefully) you will like :) Also, THANK YOU for the reviews, alerts and favs so far, it really means so much to me and I hope you will continue to give me your opinions about the story! :)**

 **Thanks to my beta for correcting it!** **  
**

 **Enjoy!**

* * *

 _"Leave my lips charred. Yea, Lord, a little bliss,_  
 _Brief, bitter bliss, one hath for a great sin" - A. C. Swinburne_

* * *

 **Chapter 10: Little Bliss**

 **DAMON**

"Stefan is missing." The words rolled off my tongue dryly and without meaning, as the void in my chest started growing.

 _Your brother was gone when I was there an hour ago,_ said the doctor and it was on a loop in my head. His leg was still tied up this morning, and even if they had let it down, he still would have been unable to stand on it. Certainly, he couldn't go anywhere by himself. But then an even worse possibility struck me and it didn't even occur to me that my breathing had quickened. I walked around all jittery after taking off the safety outfit, and I wondered what to do. The head physician was gracious enough to let me know that every force that could be mobilized and had no other important task to do was hunting for my dear brother and he didn't want to call the police without yours truly.

At first, I didn't understand what he meant and why he wanted to inform the authorities about something like a searching party after Stefan, but then I realized: it wouldn't be the first time that a celebrity was blackmailed through their family to elicit money from them in any way. However, I would never forgive myself if something happened to Stefan because of me and my fame. But why now?

Well, when baby bro was intact and healthy, dealing with him was easier said than done. Not only because he ran like a bat out of hell, but because he could punch back fairly hard due to his strong physique. Then there were a lot of rumors that I had heard, and I had watched enough thrillers to be able to form an opinion of the Italian mafia. I began to panic, fearing that this wasn't the best place for my little bro to be hospitalized in after all. Though admittedly, being hospitalized is never an entertaining experience, no matter where you are.

I paced restlessly across the asphalt as the gears were turning sluggishly in my head. Come on, Salvatore, think! I urged myself because I knew I needed to figure out something…fast. I couldn't stand idly by waiting for the other shoe to drop. Stefan had to be here somewhere, it was inconceivable to me that my injured brother would be anywhere else. But if he was truly missing, what state would he be in when I finally found him?

"One of the nurses probably took him outside. Everything will be fine," Elena said soothingly, and until now, I'd completely forgotten about her presence. However, the subtle pressure of her hand on my shoulder reminded me of her companionship. But it didn't matter that I was grateful for her reassurance, it still wasn't enough to elicit a kind smile from me. I was too tensed up to take things lightly.

She had no idea what was it like to be a celebrity. How many things I had to sacrifice and the dangers I brought to my family. Despite the fact that a long time ago she wanted to make a hit and become a number one actress-singer, she didn't know what this lifestyle entailed. Popularity goes hand in hand with the financial relief of life and the aggravation of my privacy. And as the number of your fans increases, so does the number of your enemies. I knew that not everyone liked me, I wasn't flattering myself, but I tried to remain a good man and I wanted to be optimistic that I could find enough solidarity in other fellow beings to accept me and not mess with me.

"Maybe you're right. But what are the odds that they left an hour ago without the nurse reporting it to anyone?" I argued with her comforting guess and shook off her arm. I muttered a quick prayer with my face buried in my hands. It wasn't even a real plea, just a barely scraped together whisper, begging for my brother's health.

"Not much. But there isn't much of a chance that he was kidnapped from the hospital either." She uttered what I didn't have the courage to put into words so far. Without a pause, she continued calmly. "Without having it recorded by a security camera."

I turned to Elena, whose usually emotionless face showed the signs of sincere sympathy this time, I had no doubt about it. It felt good to know that she understood me on some level and stood by me. I didn't even care right now that she probably only did it because of the bet. The point was that I wasn't alone with my problem in that moment.

"What if…" I protested, but the tour leader cut me off, asking our opinions on the quality of our little tour. He clearly had no idea of how important things we were discussing, so I kindly asked Elena to tell him it was _good_ and motioned for her to get in the Camaro.

I started the engine without a word, leaving my last sentence hanging in the air unfinished. The wind was blowing in my face and whistling in my ear due to the folded down roof, but neither this, nor the speed limit had any relevance to me.

I reached for the gear shift to move the car to a higher speed when Elena placed her hand gently on mine. The shiver that I had already felt at the beginning of our tour when only a sheet of paper could fit between our bodies, ran through me again. I forced myself to keep my eyes on the road instead of glancing at her.

"Stefan wouldn't want to put yourself in danger because of him either," she noted sweetly and thoughtfully, as if reading my mind. Because at that moment only one thing mattered: Stefan. She could have brought up anything or anyone else, I wouldn't have cared. But she knew who to mention to get my attention.

I let go of the gear shift, but I kept my hand there and Elena didn't pull hers away either. The velvety touch of her skin caressing mine affected my nerve endings, and I didn't want this soft physical connection to break. I lifted my foot up slightly from the accelerator and the speedometer indicator slipped back under 80 mph, which was still a bit too much on the winding roads of Siena.

"Ahem…" I cleared my throat after a few quietly traveled miles, and stole a glance at the girl sitting in the passenger seat through the rearview mirror. "Caroline told me you were on night shift. Do you want me to take you home before I go into the hospital?"

I thought it would be considerate of me to ask her. Though a large part of my brain was filled with worry about Stefan, it didn't kill the gentleman in me, and I didn't consider myself a grudge holding person. Our past belonged to a different page, I can still be polite to Elena.

She turned her head towards me and her aristocratic features softened. The wind blew her hair in her face, but she didn't seem to care about it. She replied with eyes full of profound devotion and mysterious expression. "No," her voice rang out strongly, then she lowered her eyes. She looked back towards the vineyards when she added. "I'll stay by your side."

I didn't even notice that up to this point, my knuckles were white from gripping the steering wheel so hard, but after hearing Elena's words, my hold relaxed. We didn't exchange words until we got back to the hospital's parking lot, but her presence was all I needed to give me enough power to face what was about to come. Half an hour had passed since I last spoke with the Doc, and the hope still burned inside me that my brother somehow popped up in the building during that time.

I hurried along the corridor to find someone who could inform me. We were both kind of exhausted from our tour, but Elena still trailed after me persistently, and when one of the nurses directed us towards the canteen, she enthusiastically translated it to me.

Reaching the threshold of the place, I came to a halt. The sight that welcomed me was like a slap to the face. I was certainly not expecting this. I was hoping for many seasoned professionals trying to discern Stefan's possible whereabouts, or people who had run through the security footage and were now discussing what they'd discovered. At the very least I was expecting a bunch of gossiping nurses making up conspiracy theories about what happened. Contrary to my belief, however, my eyes fell on a half dozen elderly people with canes, the ever smiling Agatha, and my little brother, who was giving his feet a rest by a table comfortably. Stefan looked like he was on cloud nine in the company of Rebekah, who was seated beside him while his injured leg rested on a chair on his other side. His body was shaking with laughter as he leaned in closer in a rather intimate way to the golden-haired chick who had a similar carefree smile dancing on her lips while her painted fingernails tapped on the cover of a book in her hands.

"I'm getting sick of you giving me a heart attack, little bro," I fumed as I dashed to Stefan, who raised his head up at my presence in surprise.

"You only live once, Damon! A lot of stress isn't good for you anyway. You'll get wrinkled and before you know it, _People_ magazine will no longer select you amongst the sexiest men alive," he mocked with a grin that was impossible to get rid of.

I couldn't hold back a relieved smile from creeping onto my face. "But you won't get to live that long because I'll choke you myself if you won't inform me about your next date," I nodded toward the southern beauty beside him, who self-consciously swept a strand of her hair away from her face, but didn't object.

"Bekah just took me out to the park with a wheelchair; no one asked where we were going," he shrugged his shoulder, but he must have seen how much his disappearance scared me from my worried expression because he spread out his arms. "Oh, come here, big bro!"

I let him hug me to his chest and I patted his shoulder. Pulling away from him, my eyes searched after Elena. She was looking at us with a smile and tear-filled eyes as she stood alone by the entrance with her delicate, radiant beauty. I only realized in that moment that maybe, she really has changed.

* * *

 **ELENA**

It was a great relief to know that the real reason behind Stefan's disappearance was only a date and not persona non grata and their maliciousness. Amidst the big hugging, however, I felt my presence unnecessary and referring to tiredness, I soon left. For a moment, regret flashed through Damon's eyes when I went up to him to say goodbye, but he didn't insist on my staying. He acknowledged my decision with a nod, but I felt his lingering gaze on my back while I walked out of the room.

Humane. It was shocking to see again just how profoundly humane he was. He wasn't putting on a show, his mask; the fake alluring layers were all coming off when it came to his family. I thought it was only when we were alone and he was trying to sweep me off my feet that he became like every woman's dream man; he was thoughtful, devoted and interested. But in recent times, I had the opportunity to see him in extreme states of mind and I couldn't draw a line around his behavior. He accepted his imperfections and didn't try to hide behind his pretty face. He just wanted to be himself. I would never have thought. I have always thought that what his fans saw was only a disguise, and in reality, he was a deeply spoiled, selfish man, just another untalented young actor. However, it was his profession that made me unsure if I could trust that what I saw was his real self. What if he was just putting on a show ever since we made that bet? What if he deliberately wanted to win my sympathy with his vulnerability?

My insecurities were my only company during dinner, and they didn't let me rest later either. It didn't help the situation that Caroline constantly babbled about the American star and tried to dig out some information on how I knew him.

"From a long time ago… practically from another life" I shook off the question as always and after her umpteenth attempt, I began to feel that I had offended her for not letting her in on this _'secret'_. It didn't matter that we were considered good friends, I wasn't ready to tell anyone what happened to me a long time ago. The only person I'd shared my story with, since setting foot in Verona, was Father Leo.

I needed to pour my soul out to someone, but that had to be with the right person, someone who wouldn't judge me, and had experienced enough in his life to have been able to provide me with useful advice. The Father tried to give guidance through parables, but since my family was never religious, his teaching was like a completely foreign language to me, and so I didn't understand anything from them. However, as I attended the masses more and more often, the old lines slowly made sense to me. I was well aware of the fact that the Bible tells us not to condemn others. But it was harder than I thought because trust was always out of my depth. And Damon Salvatore proved to be inscrutable so far; days passed again without so much as meeting or exchanging more than a _'Hi'._ Then suddenly he showed up on my doorstep one Friday, completely unexpectedly.

"What do you want?" I asked with raised eyebrows because it was clear that he wanted something from me. I tried to remain stern, reserved and cold, but my lips curled into an involuntary smile as he pulled out a single rose from behind his back.

"To make it up to you for neglecting you over the past couple of days," he replied right away and I scowled.

"You don't have to apologize. You were with you brother for perfectly understandable reasons," _and you don't owe me an apology anyway_ , I added to myself and gulped.

I stepped back nervously, signaling to him that I wanted him to come in. This time, it was his turn to be surprised, he didn't expect this…or he did and he hid it well.

"I didn't know where you stood with flowers, but I didn't feel like I could screw up with a rose…" he said so as to not stand in awkward silence. Then he forced himself to cross the threshold, and once he set foot in the apartment, Rambo ran to him.

"Hey, Buddy, I've missed you," he grinned at the dog while I closed the door behind him. I was about to taunt him that that was not his name, but Damon preceded me. "Will you hold it, please?" and without waiting for an answer, he pressed the rose in my hand to crouch down to the dog. He gently scratched Rambo's head, which the pet patiently endured and expressed his pleasure with a satisfied yowl. It was certain that Damon managed to worm his way into my dog's heart.

Watching them made me smile and it was so unbelievable. The kidnapper of many female hearts was here in my apartment and currently stroking my dog. Who the hell would believe me this? I would consider this a piece of fiction myself if I didn't have tangible evidence right in front of my eyes. When did Damon Salvatore become so _sweet_? Or was I too blind to notice it?

"But I really just came here for this. I don't want to disturb," he straightened up after a few moments of silence and looked at me apologetically as if he had offended me with his visit.

He was already on his way to the door when I stepped in front of him. "Would you like to stay for dinner?" I asked nervously and found myself waiting for his answer excitedly. I tried to reason with my heart, unsuccessfully, that it was unnecessary to react so violently, because, after all, it was only for the bet. But I had to admit to myself that it intrigued me as to whether Damon really was as perfect as he seemed in this moment or not.

"I'd love that," he nodded, although it did not seem he had anticipated my invitation. His lips then pulled into a satisfied smile, which gave me a bad feeling.

Nevertheless, I felt quite pleasant during the time we spent eating dinner. My guest praised the food I quickly threw together like a billion times, and I was more easygoing than during the conversations we have had so far. A few times, I felt the urge to smile seductively or twist a lock of my hair around my finger, but I resisted. Bet or not, I didn't want to put on a show. I changed tactics; I knew Damon wouldn't really fall in love with the girl I once was. But what about the present-me?

"You're kidding, right? This is my lamest movie! Is this the only one you have?" he complained after rummaging through my DVD collection and finding only one where he played the main character. He held out the movie _To Touch a Star_ before me and shook his head in disbelief. I perched on the couch with my hands still wet from washing the dishes and snatched the DVD out of his hold. I liked this movie because the love story was portrayed realistically in it. It was about a young couple, where both members must make difficult decisions that ultimately tore them apart. Then they met again years later, but what happened after their meeting was left to the audience to decide.

"I'm not your fan. You should be happy that I even have this one," I shrugged and pulled the laptop in front of us. I looked at Damon questioningly. "What if we watch it in Italian?"

Damon stared at me in wonder for a moment, then smiled and sat beside me. His upper arm brushed against mine as he settled on the couch and a mild tingling feeling ran through my body, but I tried to ignore it as I started the film. It was a bit uncomfortable during the movie. In the darkened room, so close to him, watching a romantic movie; I couldn't stay indifferent. As we reached the closing credits, the uneasiness of the previous hour and a half was a pushover compared to the next. Aided by the light of the screen, I was only able to make out his outline, and the sparkle of his bright blue eyes, but it was enough.

"This movie isn't lame in the slightest," I murmured softly.

A smile appeared on Damon's lips and turned his upper body towards me to see me better. "I never thought you'd have anything positive to say about anything that related to me," he noted and I swallowed.

I wasn't surprised by his words. I didn't really gave him any reason to think otherwise. "I never had a problem with the actor Damon Salvatore," I admitted but didn't continue. I didn't want to remind him that I had a problem with his celebrity life and what it entailed, not the fact that he, himself, was a celebrity.

"And what about the not actor Damon Salvatore?" he asked after all, but shortly after he didn't receive my answer, he rephrased the question. "Do you still think of me as a self-righteous ass who only cares about himself?"

I hesitated for a moment, then not caring about the consequences I told him the truth. To hell with it. I didn't know a good enough reason as to why I couldn't do it because that didn't mean I would fall in love with him. "Let's just say that my opinion is starting to change," I replied diplomatically and lowered my eyes.

His hand glided over my cheek and forced my eyes back at him. The grin disappeared from his face and his expression took on a serious one while he played with a strand of my hair. "Mine, however, isn't…" he said and I sucked in a sharp breath. That definitely hurt. His words stung, but before I could fall into despair he went on. "As far as your beauty is concerned. You're beautiful," his confession came out as a whisper, and it shocked me more than the beginning of his sentence. He complimented…Did he just put his charm into action?

I had no time to think, nor could I utter a 'thank you' because Damon leaned over to me and pressed his lips gently to mine. It was tender and it didn't matter that a part of my brain was screaming at me to push him away, I kissed him back. I knew that it was wrong, that I shouldn't be doing this, but no sin has ever felt as good as this one in this moment.

* * *

 **Cruel, I know! But I promise I try to get back to you with the next chapter as soon as possible. Until then, please leave a review on how I'm doing with the story, it really helps with my muse! :)**

 **Oh and to everyone who is reading my other story _'The Word Is Bravery'_ : I almost finished the next chapter (I only have the flashbacks to write) and if my beta gives me the green light I upload it as fast as I can after my exams are finally over!**

 **Love,**  
 **Niki**


	12. AN

**Hey, guys!**

 **So you probably have noticed that I stopped updating my ongoing fanfics for a while now. This semester was hell, assignments upon assignments and my exams are still ahead of me. When I started writing two stories at the same time I thought I could handle it, but I was wrong. I decided to post this little RS under this story because I don't think I will continue this story after I finally have time and my exams are over.** **It was a good idea when I first started it and really enjoyed writing it, but now I just don't feel it, if you know what I mean. I could continue it, but my heart won't be in it anymore. It really pains me to say it because once I swore to myself that I won't be those writers that let their story hang in the air half finished, but now with college and everything I can understand them. BUT I still see some potential in my other story 'The Word Is Bravery' so I'm not abandoning it. I know I must be a disappointment to some of you and I'm sorry if you liked this story, but I had to let one of my stories go and I chose this.**

 **So all in all, I hope you will still read my stories if I do return sometime in the near future. :)**

 **xo**

 **Niki**


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